Beautiful Lie
by Ndfarmer80
Summary: There's a new face at Section, a mysterious looking Valentine's operative with a knack for seduction. Nikita is assigned to work with him, but is warned to be careful. As always with Section nothing is ever as it seems.


"It's a beautiful lie. It's a perfect denial. Such a beautiful lie to believe in. So beautiful, beautiful..." -Jared Leto

Chapter One

Walter could feel a stirring in the building. A kind of tremor happening just below the surface.

He had often felt this feeling anytime something or someone was coming to Section. He had felt it when Nikita first came to Section. He felt it again when Jurgen showed up. Then there was Petrosian's takeover. Now he felt it again, just as strong as he did before. He looked up from his work reconfiguring scopes and looked about the main floor. The first thing he noticed was how nearly all the women were grouped together whispering among themselves and glancing up towards Command. Their whispers were frantic and hushed, full of excitement. They had not been this riled up since Michael changed his hairstyle.

Walter moved away from his workstation and looked up into Command. He could see Operations speaking with someone who was standing just a little out of view. He could tell the person he was talking to was not Michael. He was in his office typing away at his computer looking very engrossed in his work. He sat so still he might as well have been a cardboard cutout of himself. Walter stepped a little further out and saw a man dressed in a long white coat, his hands folded in front of him. He had long, deep brown hair, a slight frame, and gentle features. There was a trace of stubble around his sculpted jawline and over top his upper lip. He turned his gaze momentarily down towards the main floor. The huddled women nearly fell over themselves as his ice blue eyes found them before swooping back up to Operations. Walter knew then what had gotten all the women worked up.

"Hey!" said Birkoff, joining Walter. He folded his arms and looked up at Command. "New Operative?"

"No," said Walter. "Likely a trade. Section does that from time to time. They give us somebody, we give them somebody for the duration of a mission."

"Who did they trade?" asked Birkoff.

"Dunno. Guess it doesn't really matter who. They would already be wherever this guy came from."

"I heard he was a Valentine Op."

"Probably. By the look of him, I would say so," said Walter.

The man nodded and turned from Operations heading out of Command. Walter made his way back to his station, not wanting to draw any further attention from Operations than he already had. Birkoff followed him.

"You think he is going to be working the mission coming up?"

"Maybe," said Walter.

He looked up and saw the man walk out from the hall into the main area. He crossed over, his gait long and easy as he strolled with his hands in the pockets of his long white coat. He stopped momentarily, checking his watch before pulling out a cell phone from his breast pocket. He answered a call and walked slowly towards the lounge. Behind him, a trail of female eyes followed with obvious desire. For the first time in a while, Walter noticed that no one was paying any particular attention to Michael's office, even when he emerged from it to take a file to Operations.

"You seeing what I'm seeing?" said Birkoff, his jaw hanging open slightly in disbelief.

"Yeah," said Walter, not really wanting to comment about what Birkoff was noticing.

"Nobody looked at Michael. I mean, not even a little bit." Birkoff was acting like an alien had walked across the floor.

"Nope," Walter said airly. He bent down to tighten a screw on a particularly troublesome scope.

"What is going on?"

"I'm sure we'll find out here soon enough. There's a briefing in about a half hour."

Birkoff nodded as he made his way back to his workstation. He shook his head.

"Strange."

"Good afternoon everyone," greeted Operations to the team gathered at the conference table.

Michael and Nikita took their seats in the very center of the table while the rest of their team filed in around him. Walter sat down next to Birkoff on the left of Nikita while Madeline and Stephen Hopkins, a Level 4 operative sat right of Michael. Another male operative sat down from Walter with one last seat left empty. Walter took a look down at the empty seat, wondering who was missing from their group. As if answering this question, the man from earlier walked up and approached the table.

"Ah! Gabriel. Take a seat. We can get started now," said Operations.

The man called Gabriel nodded quietly and sat down in the empty seat. Walter looked over at Nikita and saw her baby blue eyes move towards the new guy at the table. Madeline's eyes flashed immediate interest. A slight grin spread over her burgundy lips, obviously pleased with what she was seeing. Walter looked at Michael and saw his eyes move for a moment over towards Nikita before refocusing to the table and Operations. Gabriel sat quietly, listening to Operations as he began to detail the intelligence gathered from a source working out of England. Gabriel folded his hands across his stomach as he reclined back in his seat. His eyes swept over the team, capturing the soft blue-green glow of the digital rendering holographed on the table. The color made him look like he was seeing with electric eyes. Up close, he appeared more than angelic. Maybe even celestial, like an entity that had come from some other planet where only beautiful beings resided.

"I'm sure most of you are wondering who the new face is joining us," Operations began. "This is Gabriel Reeves. Section Two has graciously lent him to us to help with this mission. He will be working with us on one part of the operation. As you all know, this mission will have two stages, one working outside in the field, and the other working inside with our target. The target is named Claudette Barrington. She is the wife of arms dealer Augustine Barrington. She has access to his accounts but is unaware that her husband is currently taking bids for stolen military weapons hiding somewhere in the Balkans. The accounts have details of who the contacts and buyers are. We need to get those names. We will also need a team to head up the efforts to locate where the cache of weapons are so that they can be contained. Gabriel will get close to Claudette to gain the intel. Michael, you will head up the team in the Balkans. The mission will load in two days. Review the profile. That is all."

Everyone got up from their seats slowly to file out to their various work areas. Michael lingered a little at the table, seemingly in deep thought. Nikita rose from her seat, delaying only a moment to check on Michael's demeanor. He seemed too far away for her to read anything from him, so she started towards her desk. Instead of walking directly there, she crossed over and introduced herself to Gabriel.

"Section Two, huh?" said Nikita within a pleasant smile.

"Yes," said Gabriel, his tone quiet and soft, much like Michael's.

"Well, we're glad to have you on board."

"Thank you," Gabriel said and offered a small grin in response.

"Are you settled in yet?" asked Nikita.

Gabriel looked about himself considering the question. He shrugged with a slight lift to his shoulders. The movement was somewhat adorable in his slightly too large white coat. Under the coat he wore a deep blue button down open at the collar and a pair of black and blue tweed pants. He smelled lightly of an airy cologne. His hair seemed to shimmer gold as the light caught between the waves lifting the brighter tones of his natural color. NIkita looked quickly over to where Michael had been sitting and noticed that he had left. She looked up and saw he was upstairs in Command having a conversation with Operations and Madeline. She returned to Gabriel and noticed he was studying her as well, his crystal eyes floating over her frame considering her.

"I haven't quite settled in," he was saying. "But I'm getting there."

"Well, you know, you can let me know, or...anyone else know, if you need any help with things," said Nikita. She flushed a little, feeling embarrassed for having nearly slipped out her interest.

"I will. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They paused a moment before Nikita turned on her heels and walked away, smiling to herself. She breathed out a line of air, releasing her own tension. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, knowing that he was likely still watching her as she walked away. She turned slightly and saw that he was, but only for a moment. He looked up at Command and stared right into Michael's eyes. The two men stood looking at one another for a long moment, something passing between them. Gabriel cocked a grin at Michael before heading to transport.

* * *

Chapter Two

"You should be happy, Michael. Normally we would have you doing the inside work," said Operations.

Michael stood between Madeline and Operations after the briefing to get further details about the mission he would be heading. He saw Nikita's reaction when Gabriel sat down at the table, and it worried him a little. He caught her several times during the briefing stealing glances over towards Gabriel, her interest obviously peaked. When he looked to Gabriel, he saw he continued to focus on the briefing details and gave no mind to the two women at the table not even trying to hide their awareness of him. Nikita seemed like she was having trouble figuring out which one of them she wanted to pay attention to the most. She was seated next to him as she always was, but her eyes told him she wanted to be closer to Gabriel. After the meeting, he delayed to see if she would stay next to him. At first, she seemed to want to, but as Gabriel began to move further away, she left him and went over to speak with him.

"With Gabriel here, you are free to lead the Balkan Initiative. You'll need to choose your team by this afternoon so that we can begin field maneuver training before you head out."

Michael barely heard Operations as he spoke. His thoughts were not on the mission, but at the conversation happening below him between Gabriel and Nikita. He could not help himself for wondering what it was that they were talking about.

"Michael," said Operations slightly annoyed. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," said Michael, turning his gaze towards Operations.

"Good. I know the two of you have crossed paths before. You don't have to worry about whether or not he still has feelings about what happened. He has assured us that enough time has passed and he is no longer concerned," said Operations.

"Is that what he said?" asked Michael, not really trusting this.

"Yes," said Operations.

"Then there is nothing to worry about," said Michael. "Is that all?"

"There is one other thing," said Operations. He paused for a dramatic moment, studying Michael's demeanor. As usual, Michael only returned an unreadable blank stare back. "We want Nikita to work with Gabriel on this mission. So when you put together your team, use Masterson to run point instead."

"Is there any reason why Nikita is being paired with Gabriel?"

Madeline stepped forward. "She has worked well with you during a similar missions. We think she will be a good liaison between Gabriel and Claudette to help the relationship develop faster."

Michael looked at Madeline then Operations, considering them both and their motives. He nodded in acceptance and walked out of Command. Madeline looked at Operations. Both of them looked down to see Nikita and Gabriel holding a brief conversation. Nikita walked away to head back to her station while Gabriel walked off towards transport.

"Separating those two might prove to be problematic. Especially if Nikita forms an attachment to Gabriel," said Madeline.

"Michael has known for some time that he needs to detach himself from Nikita. If she forms an attachment with someone else, it's all for the better."

"He might fight it."

"He'll eventually come to terms with it. After all, all is fair in love and war."

Nikita looked at the growing pile of dishes in her sink and groaned. If there was one thing she could not stand doing, it was the dishes. Like laundry, there never seemed to be an end to its repetitive routine. She wished she could just simply blink her eyes and all the dishes and the laundry be clean and put away. Instead, she rolled up the sleeves of her sweat shirt and turned on the water, preparing herself for the arduous few minutes it would take her to clean each dish and put away into their proper place.

While she worked, she allowed her mind to move over the day's events, noting its fun and not so fun moments. That morning, she had gone for a jog, enjoying the brisk morning hair signaling the beginning of fall. She had pulled her blonde hair up into a high ponytail and threw on some blue and yellow spandex workout clothes to run in. She remembered how lovely the trees looked decked out in their autumn colors of red and burned orange. She ran for about a mile and a half before returning to her apartment to wash up and get ready to go into work. She had only briefly reviewed several profiles knowing that Michael would likely ask about them. She had read enough to give him the short and sweet version. By now, she had begun to know his rhythms, what would set him off into a clenched jaw death silence and what would soften his demeanor a little so that his focus was not entirely on her. She used to enjoy having all of Michael's attention, but lately, he was behaving more brutish and cold towards her. It was as if he were deliberately trying to get her to hate him, but not quite committing to just flat out crushing her. He would play an odd game of tug of war with her, first drawing close to her, so close that she often wondered what his true intentions were. Whenever she reached out for him, he would turn his cold stare back on her and shove her ten feet away from him again. She was never sure if he desired her or hated her. He seemed to be battling himself each time they were alone together. The whole thing was driving her absolutely mad. She would much rather he just tell her that he didn't like her anymore, that he wanted to be rid of her, instead of dangling the carrot of a more intimate relationship in front of her, then yanking it back each time she reached for it. She was sure that he was looking at her when the new operative came into the morning briefing. She could almost feel his eyes burning the back of her head. He had sat for a few minutes longer at the conference table after the meeting, seemingly in deep thought. For a moment, she wondered what it was that was bothering him. She stayed with him for a second before realizing he was not going to tell her anything about what was going on with him. He would sit forever stewing in the feelings he swore he never had and wait for her to slice her wrists trying to figure him out.

She wasn't going to do that. Not anymore.

She was done with bending and hurdling through Michael's impossible obstacle course of feelings. She was done feeling for him. She had taken him through some of the most nightmarish moments of his life and all she ever asked of him was his heart. In hindsight, she realized it wasn't that Michael refused to give her his heart, it was that he could not give her something he did not possess himself. She could clamour all day and beg for him to look on her with love and adoration, the same as he faked doing in all those other missions, and not gain one ounce of his care past what Section would allow him to. It seemed the only way she could ever gain any type of affection from him was through a partnership mission like the one she was going to be doing with Gabriel. She was sure that Michael knew about the dual missions and that she would not be following him into the Balkans, but rather stay behind while he boarded a plane. He seemed unconcerned when she went to talk to Gabriel, although she did feel him looking a few times while talking with Operations. He did not come to her station and question her about what she said to him. Instead, he went into his office and shut the door.

Nikita angrily dried a coffee mug with a towel. She started to put it up in the cabinet when she lost her grip and the mug slipped from her fingers. The white porcelain exploded into several shards on the wooden floor. Nikita cursed under her breath. It was the third mug she had dropped that month. She only had one mug left to drink out of. She went to her pantry and pulled out the broom and dust pan. There was a knock at her door.

"One second!" Nikita called out as she attempted to sweep up the mess.

There was another rap on the door.

"I said in a minute!" Nikita was a little perturbed by whomever the guest was on the other side of the door. She was sure they heard her when she told them to wait a minute the first time.

After dumping the broken pieces into the garbage can, she wiped off her hands on her jeans and went to the door. She saw on the security monitor a man standing at the door wearing a long, black coat with dark brown hair. Nikita rolled her eyes, preparing for a difficult line of questioning from the always suspicious Michael. She unlocked the door and opened it, swaying backward. To her shock, the man standing in the hall was not Michael.

"Gabriel!"

"Hi," he said, his eyes wide and expressive.

"What are you doing here?" Nikita did not mean to sound accusatory, but she was truly surprised to find him at her door.

"I hope you don't mind. I don't mean to bother you while you're..." Gabriel looked at Nikita with a question he was not sure how to ask.

"I was just cleaning up," Nikita answered for him.

"Oh. Sure."

"Why are you here again?" asked Nikita.

"I, uh," Gabriel seemed to fidget a little with his answer. "I was told you stayed here. I was supposed to give you something." He rummaged around in the pockets of his coat and produced a file disc. "This. I was supposed to give you this before you left. Guess I just missed you."

He handed Nikita the disc. Nikita took it and looked at it for a moment. It looked like a profile file, and likely was. She stepped back from the door, leaving it open. Gabriel continued to remain outside the door frame.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?" Nikita teased.

Gabriel gave a pleasant smile before stepping inside the apartment. He closed the door behind him and looked about the room, taking in Nikita's eclectic decorating. He stopped at the pile of dishes in the sink. Nikita took the disc over to her computer and loaded it. She cast a wary look over her shoulder as Gabriel continued to look about himself. The file was more information about their target and Nikita's role in getting close to her. She would be posing as a personal trainer again, something she seemed to be doing a lot lately. It seemed she had one of two identities when she wasn't directly paired up with Michael. She was either a personal trainer or she was a hapless temp arriving at the wrong building at the wrong time. Gabriel would be another one of her clients, but much farther along in his training and posing as someone who was about to reach the end of his program. It was up to her to establish contact with Claudette first then bring Gabriel in as her assistant. Once Gabriel and Claudette were introduced, she was to suddenly become more and more absent as their relationship heated up leaving them alone more. She could check in every now and then, posing as a friend, and inquire about the progress of their relationship in the guise of girl talk. It was up to Gabriel to win her trust to gain access to her files. What happened after that was not detailed to Nikita. As with all things with Section, she was only told her part in the elaborate drama. She had learned from many mistakes prior not to bother asking questions. She would always get the same answer.

Nikita, just do your job.

"I like your place," said Gabriel. "It's very...very...um..."

Nikita turned around, brandishing a challenging grin. Gabriel stood a moment, seemingly lost for words. He smiled nervously, retreating his eyes from Nikita's as she drew closer to him. She kept her hands behind her back, swaying a little.

"It's very what," said Nikita.

She was up on him close now, her blue eyes meeting his. He seemed to relax a moment, taking in a long breath then allowing it to slowly draw out from his nostrils. He smiled slowly, daring a step closer to her so that they were nearly pressed together. Nikita drew back, surprised by his brashness.

"I was going to say, colorful." Gabriel's voice was low and smooth like warm milk.

Nikita was somewhat surprised by how his voice and the closeness of his presence affected her. His cologne wafted up and tantalized her. It made her want to draw closer to him, much closer than they already were. Gabriel continued to stand, unmoved, breathing evenly. Nikita swallowed and cleared her throat. She backed up a few steps, giving herself some space.

"Would you like something to drink?" Nikita's voice cracked a little.

"What do you have?"

Gabriel crossed over to the couch and removed his coat revealing what Nikita knew a lot of the women at Section would have loved to see.

Nikita tried to keep from staring as she searched around in her cabinets for something to drink. All that she could come up with was a half bottle of Merlot, some apple juice, fruit punch, a few muscle milks, and bottled water. She looked at Gabriel and saw that he was relaxed on her couch, his legs crossed and one arm lazily draped along the back of the cushions. Nikita pushed her hair behind her ear and grabbed two glasses.

"Don't have much to offer, I'm afraid," she said feeling a little embarrassed having offered drinks that she didn't have.

"Whatever you have is fine," said Gabriel.

That's a Michael answer, Nikita thought. She selected the one drink she had the most of. Apple juice. She poured two glasses and walked them over to him. She handed him the juice and sat down next to him on the couch. Gabriel looked at the juice, somewhat baffled. He took a sip then balanced the glass on his knee. Nikita took a sip of her own juice, looking at Gabriel over the rim of her glass. She could not help but cruise over his form, his very relaxed disposition practically invited it. She could tell he was fit, probably a little more fit than Michael was with less body fat. He had broad shoulders, accented by his jewel blue shirt. His thighs weren't as thick as Michael's, but still held definition that could be seen even through the tweed fabric of his pants. There were other parts of him that she caught herself wondering over. She found herself dissecting Gabriel part by part and comparing those parts to Michael.

His eyes were more expressive than Michael's and certainly a bit more captivating. His hair was longer and seemed more radiant than Michael's. His smile was easier and stayed in place as opposed to Michael, who always seemed to be in a permanent frown. Gabriel was more relaxed than Michael, reclining rather than sitting straight up or hunched over. His voice was warmer than Michael's, softer and resonated slightly louder than Michael's whose own tone wavered between growling and nasal. She figured it was the reason why he talked so low. Anything higher than a whisper often sounded like it was being pushed through a steel grate.

Gabriel drank more of his juice and waited for Nikita to say something further. Nikita was stuck in her thoughts a while longer, before she pulled herself back to the present.

"Well, how was your first day at Section? Are you getting around okay?"

"It was fine, I guess. I really only got to see a few places like Command, Madeline's office, the lounge..."

"That's more than what I knew about when I first got there," said Nikita within a laugh.

"They didn't take you on the grand tour?"

"Guess they forgot."

They laughed. Nikita enjoyed seeing a smile that did not look strained or like it was causing great pain to maintain. The sound of Gabriel's chuckle was both alluring and refreshing.

"Is everyone treating you well?" asked Nikita, taking another sip

"So far, yeah," said Gabriel informally. "Madeline has been really helpful. A bit more than necessary, I think. Is she always like that?"

Nikita shook her head, not surprised at all. "No. She is definitely not like that all the time. In fact, she can be just the opposite most times. But it doesn't surprise me that she would be interested in helping you get acclimated. It benefits her to have you comfortable."

"I don't know if comfortable would be the word. She kept staring at my jock."

Nikita nearly spit out her juice from laughing. She sat down her juice on the table next to the couch and tried to wipe her mouth with her hand. Realizing she had made a much larger mess than she originally thought, she got up and went to the sink to rinse off. Gabriel continued to look amused and smiled pleasantly. He drank his juice leisurely, watching Nikita as she rinsed off her hands and wiped the juice from her mouth.

"Wow, that was smooth," said Nikita.

"I thought it was fine up until you started spitting juice everywhere."

Nikita giggled, her ears turning a little pink from slight embarrassment. She dried her hands and returned to the couch, turning her body towards Gabriel with her knee up on the cushion. She propped herself against the couch with her elbow and leaned her head against her fist.

"How do you know Michael?"

Gabriel allowed his smile to slip a little, considering the question. He rolled the now empty glass on his thigh and toyed with it.

"We met a time back," said Gabriel. "I came into the Section a year behind him. Sometimes I trained with him."

"Were you guys friends?"

"No," said Gabriel turning his icy eyes on Nikita. "We weren't friends."

"Oh."

Gabriel set his own glass on the table next to him and folded his hands in his lap.

"Michael didn't really make a lot of friends. Of course, Section didn't make it easy to do that either. It was just better that you didn't make friends."

Nikita's expression fell a little with sadness. She knew she should be used to hearing the sad sob stories of veteran Section operatives, but she just could not. She could only imagine what sort of horrors Gabriel had seen while he worked for Section as a Valentine Operative. If his experiences were anything like the ones Michael went through, she could admire that he managed to hold a genuine smile despite it all.

"What about you? How do you know Michael?"

"He was my trainer, my mentor. I've been on his team since becoming a full status operative for the Section."

"Interesting," said Gabriel.

"Why do you say that?"

"Section usually makes mentors severe all contact with their material after the two years are up. Once you become a full status operative, you are assigned to another team, not stay with the mentor. It could cause problems."

"Problems?" Nikita repositioned herself to try and appear more relaxed.

"Attachment," said Gabriel. He did not move his eyes away from Nikita even though she was obviously becoming slightly uncomfortable with it. "Sometimes mentors form bonds with their material that can get in the way of missions. They can sometimes make alterations to set plans in favor of their feelings. They can put a mission at risk by looking after the other's well being over mission requirements."

Nikita swallowed hard. Gabriel did not waver in his expression. She realized then that his pleasant exterior hid something much darker inside. She straightened herself.

"Well, I don't think that Section has anything to worry about. Michael and I are strictly on a professional status. We are not involved with one another."

"But you were," Gabriel fired back.

Nikita looked at Gabriel, half angered that he would make such an accusation and half surprised that he knew so quickly after arriving at Section. It seemed that no matter how much she denied it, refused to admit, or even state right out that there was never a relationship between herself and Michael, the rumor still lived. People at Section still whispered about Michael and Nikita and the romance that never was.

"We explored the idea," Nikita admitted. "But we quickly realized it was useless. We didn't go back to it again."

"Case closed?"

"It was never even opened."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Nikita looked at Gabriel, curious. "What do you mean?"

"I'd hate to be the one to come between you and him."

"Oh ho ho!" Nikita laughed. "What makes you think you would even get a chance?"

"Maybe just hopeful thinking," said Gabriel. "I'm always so very hopeful."

"Yeah, well keep dreaming, cowboy, because it's not happening." Nikita got up from the couch and collected the glasses.

Gabriel stood to his feet and followed Nikita over to the kitchen where she began rinsing out the glasses. He leaned against the counter, resting on his elbows. His dark hair draped over his shoulders now shimmering hints of red and auburn beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

"You do know we have to work closely together on this mission, right."

"Yes. I'm aware of that."

"I'll be relying on you to get me close to Claudette. We have to act like we've known each other for years."

"Alright then," said Nikita. She leaned back against the back cabinets, crossing her ankles. "What sort of details do you want me to share with her?"

"We can start off with how we met," said Gabriel. "Got any fruit?"

Nikita opened her refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of assorted fruits consisting of red and white grapes, oranges, apples, and pears. Gabriel selected a sprig of white grapes. He pulled one off and popped it into his mouth. Nikita could not help but think the simple gesture sexy as she watched his mouth roll the grape around. She chose an orange and peeled it quickly with her fingernail. She tossed the rhind into the sink and pulled apart a slice.

"I guess we could say we met in the gym. I'm supposed to be your personal trainer after all. We met in the gym about, let's say, a year ago. I've been whipping you into shape ever since." Nikita popped the slice into her mouth.

"So you're whipping me, huh? I kinda like that," said Gabriel with a sly grin.

Nikita tried to hide her blush, but found it impossible while holding an orange in her hand. Gabriel popped in another grape, smiling with it.

"So what's the nature of our relationship? Are we friends...enemies...friends with questionable habits?" A bit of mischief flashed in Gabriel's electric eyes.

Nikita thought for a moment, considering what Gabriel was hinting at. She chomped another orange slice as if biting back her deeper thoughts.

"I think friends would be the best explanation. I mean, why give her something to worry about when getting close to you?"

"Why not?"

"Seems pointless, doesn't it? If I'm introducing you to her and I'm trying to be her friend, wouldn't it be a problem if she sees me as competition? Wouldn't that make your job harder?"

Gabriel righted himself, having finished his sprig. He reached for another set of grapes.

"On the contrary. It might make it easier. Her profile says she is competitive. She might like the challenge of beating someone in something. What better game to play than the game of love?" He twisted himself and hopped up on her counter. He swung his legs over to the other side to face Nikita. "You could give her a good run, we can make it believable, then in the end, let her win."

Nikita furrowed her brow. "Let her win? Win what?"

"Me, of course. I'm the prize. The two of you fight over me. You let her win."

Nikita looked at Gabriel as he kicked his feet playfully in the air. He looked like a little boy eating grapes on top of her counter. She shook her head and finished her orange.

"What? You don't think I'm worth fighting for?" Gabriel looked truly hurt.

"No, I don't think that," said Nikita. She went to the sink to wash off the sticky juice from her hands. "I just think that it is more than complicated for this type of job. I think we should just keep things simple and go as friends. That way, I can just introduce you two and get out of the way."

"Oh, I get it," said Gabriel, jumping down from the counter. "You don't wanna play because you think you will lose. She is pretty cute you know."

Nikita began washing the rest of the dishes. She needed to put her hands at work doing something so that she could stop looking into Gabriel's eyes. There was something undeniable about him and she did not want to be captured by it. She could feel him drawing closer to her, eating his grapes, and radiating sexuality from every pore of his skin.

"If I play, I play to win," said Nikita. "But since I'm not playing, what does it matter?"

"It matters to me if you're playing," said Gabriel, now so near she could smell him again. "The integrity of the mission depends on the believability of our relationship. If she is the only one vying for my attention, then she won't be interested in playing. So...you have to play."

Nikita turned and nearly ran into Gabriel's chest. She was face to face with him again, staring into the depths of those enticing eyes. This time, she could not free herself from his gaze. She was mesmerized. He moved his eyes over her slowly, deliberately. She could sense that he knew being so close to her made her uncomfortable. Made her want to back away, but she was trapped between him and the sink. There was a moment she felt she might do one of two things. She would either give him a strong right cross or pull him to her in an impassioned kiss. At the moment, she was unsure which she would choose

"Or...Maybe you're right about us just being friends," said Gabriel. He took a step back from Nikita, releasing her. "Why make it hard."

"Exactly," said Nikita within a breath. She had not realized she was holding it the entire time.

Gabriel checked his watch, then crossed over to the couch where he laid his coat. He began putting it on.

"The mission doesn't load for another day or so. That should give us enough time to get our stories straight," said Gabriel. "Let's say we get together again tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. We'll go to a coffee shop. Start putting the pieces in place."

Nikita nodded, trying to catch her breath. She could still smell his light cologne lingering in the air where he stood. She watched him head towards her door. She met him there, opening it for him. He stepped out into the hall, then turned around.

"Thanks for the grapes," he said then smiled sweetly.

"Anytime." Nikita smiled.

He rocked back on his heels and carried his little boy grin down the hall. Nikita closed her door and leaned up against it. Her body was sizzling like she had just been removed from a frying pan. She had not felt that kind of energy since...since...Well, since before she could remember ever feeling like this. She blew out a line of air and slid down to the floor.

* * *

Chapter Three

"Something's got him worked up," said Walter.

Across the floor, Michael walked into his office and swung his door closed. He could be seen through his window sitting down at his desk and logging on to his computer. There was a stern look in his expression, one that told Walter and anyone daring to near him to approach with caution. Birkoff noticed Michael's demeanor as well and looked on with growing curiosity.

"He looks determined," said Birkoff.

"Yeah. You'd be too if you heard you spend half your day stuck in back to back meetings with Operations."

Birkoff shrugged. He turned his attention back to Walter who was now working on another invention. He looked over the old man's work, gauging the tools he was using and trying to deduce what he was presently hard at work trying to create. At the moment, however, all he saw were nuts and bolts that did not belong to anything.

"Terri and Lisa are supposed to be shadowing that new guy again tonight."

"Yeah, so," said Walter. He reached for a magnifying glass to see a screw fit into a tiny hole at the base of his contraption.

"Well...I am a little curious about what they found out so far."

"Probably nothing." Walter selected another screw.

"You think? I mean, he looks really interesting."

"Then they probably found a whole lot to report about."

"Yeah, but what though? I mean, he is supposed to be working with Nikita on this next mission. So Nikita will be here and Michael will be in the Balkans somewhere looking for weapons."

"Nikita has worked with other operatives before. I'm sure she will do fine. And Michael will do fine as well." Walter finally was able to stabilize his hand enough to fit the screw into the hole.

"This is different, though," said Birkoff. "Have you seen the guy? He doesn't even look real."

"Yeah I've seen'em," said Walter, already tired of this conversation. "The whole damn building has seen him and they all have an opinion about him."

"What do you think about him?" Birkoff was not letting the conversation go.

Walter sighed heavily. "I don't think."

"You don't wonder about him at all?"

"Birkoff," Walter began. "If i spent my time wondering about every person that walks in here, I'd be a basket case."

"So you're not at all curious about him?"

Walter looked at Birkoff with all meaning in his eagle sharp eyes. He stopped what he was doing so that the young Communications expert could know indefinitely of what he was about to say.

"In all my time here, the many years that I've seen within these walls, I've never once been curious about an operative. I keep my business as my business and let them do whatever they need to. I've learned to keep my nose out of everyone else's business. I suggest you do the same."

Birkoff looked at the old part Indian, part caucasian man and considered his advice. It was obvious that the new guy was going to destroy Section one female at a time. For what he could get from his profile, Gabriel had been a very successful Valentine back at Two. He was trained in combat and was a decent shot, but his real talent did not lay on the field, but in the bedroom. He had been one of the top ranked Valentine operatives that Section had. Since the mission was a hybrid one, they needed to go about things business as usual and not try and accommodate Michael or Nikita's wishes to stay together.

He could picture Nikita bounding happily out of her apartment and rest easy on the back of his motorbike. He could see them roaring through the city, headless of laws and recklessly defying every rule. Gabriel was just the type of guy he could see Nikita gravitating towards. Someone who was just as carefree and brash as she was. Someone who was unapologetically raw with just enough sophistication to enter any room and command its attention. In a lot of ways, he was like a male version of Nikita, and that was what kind of intrigued him the most. If Operations, Madeline, and Michael had their hands full with one Nikita, how did they think they would manage with another one just like her there? Even more interesting was Michael's reaction to the pairing. From where Birkoff could see, he obviously had an opinion about it. He just wasn't voicing it.

* * *

Nikita knocked somewhat pensively on Michael's office door and opened it only partially. She stuck her head inside and spied Michael fully absorbed at his desk. He was his usual self, dressed in a tailored black suit and charcoal shirt underneath. His chestnut hair was brushed back away from his sharply angled face. His brow was a little furrowed and made the ridge of his narrow nose even more defined. His small cupid's bow lips were pressed down into a thin line. His jaw squared off a bit more in exaggeration hinting at his tension. His lightly colored grey eyes flicked quickly up towards her before returning just as fast back to his computer screen. She could already see the tiny little veins that often popped out on his forehead whenever he was upset about something. It was a tell that most others might have missed if they did not know what brought them out. Nikita, however, knew why those veins were there and wondered what reason would he give to throw her off his scent.

"You wanted to see me?" she said quietly as she pushed the rest of herself into the office.

"Sit down," said Michael, still not bothering to stop typing long enough to acknowledge her.

Nikita walked slowly to the chair in front of Michael. She sat down, crossing her legs in the way that said without words that she was preparing to hear whatever nonsense Michael was about to spew. She sighed audibly, further announcing her presence. She waited patiently as Michael continued to type as if he had not called her in at all. Finally, after several more hurried keystrokes, he reached over to a panel under his desk and typed in a code to secure the room. He then settled back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him and looked at Nikita, his expression just as blank as the wall behind him.

"What's this about?" Nikita dared to ask.

Michael pulled in a breath. "How are you coming with the profiles given to you? Are you understanding what is required?"

"Yes," said Nikita carefully. "It's not like I haven't done this before. It's pretty cut and dry."

"Did you review the target's profile thoroughly?"

"Yes."

"And you're comfortable with encouraging her to cheat on her husband?"

"Yes."

"You know that you will have to get very close to the target to get her to trust you. You know that you will have to help Gabriel get to her quickly. We don't have a lot of time to develop the relationship."

"I know that, Michael. I've taken all of that into consideration."

"I just want you to be sure that you know what you're doing. Your relationship with her will be just as important as the one Gabriel will have with her." Michael leaned forward, giving meaning to his words.

"Michael, I've been through this type of scenario a million times. I know what I'm doing. I've done this with you plenty of times-"

"But it's not me you're doing this with," Michael said, cutting her off sharply. "I won't be there to help you through it. You'll be all on your own."

Nikita pulled back a little, surprised at his sudden intensity. She studied Michael's face now, noticing the fine lines beginning in his brow. He was actually scowling, but had learned how to hide it behind a semi-placid expression. She figured he realized she was staring at him because he got up from his seat. He walked over to the blinds, buttoning his jacket as he always did mostly out of habit. He stared out the window, watching recruits go through clinicals.

"What's this really about, Michael? You and I both know that my understanding of the mission is not why you called me in here. So what's the real reason?"

Michael stood quiet a moment, still staring out the window. Finally, he looked slightly over his shoulder towards Nikita.

"You shouldn't trust him," he said plainly.

"Why not? He hasn't done anything?" said Nikita.

"He doesn't have to. I know how he is. How he thinks." Michael turned to Nikita fully. "Just be careful around him."

Nikita rolled her head in frustration. She had heard this speech before, except it was about Jurgen. Before then, it was Gray Wellman. She was beginning to wonder if the reason that Michael always wanted to give his unwarranted advice was that if he could not have her, no one else could either.

"It's just a mission, Michael," said Nikita. "We aren't even going to be together that much. He'll be spending all his time with her. I'm just there to help facilitate things."

"In order to get her to fall fast for him, you have to be the one to help that along, which means you will have to know things about him to tell her so that she feels more comfortable around him."

" I know that Michael. We are working on that."

"What has he told you so far?"

Nikita did not hide her shock at Michael's nerve. She crossed her arms, ready for battle at this point.

"What I need to know." Nikita did not bother to quell her own attitude.

As usual, she could see Michael's wall shooting straight up in defense. He crossed back towards his desk, using movement to steady himself.

"The two of you should get your stories together, make it airtight. You should know exactly what he is telling her and vice versa. You can't afford for her to become suspicious of the two of you. The mission is too important for the two of you to bumble it by being unprepared."

"We'll be prepared, Michael."

"You don't know him, Nikita. I'm just warning you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

There was a flash of something that looked like care in his eyes. It was there for a split second before he turned his attention back to the window. Nikita leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and wringing her hands. She took a quick look at her watch and saw that much of the afternoon was gone and she still had yet to break off for lunch.

"I won't get hurt, Michael. You don't have to worry about that," said Nikita, feeling a bit tired and hungry. "Honestly I really don't see why you're so concerned, he's not a bad guy. He's actually kinda nice."

She saw it then, a flash of pure hatred sparked in his eyes. He turned away quickly, trying to hide it, but she had already seen it.

"You're really threatened by him, aren't you?" Nikita rose from her seat and came within a few paces of Michael. She could sense the heat beginning to roll off him as he tried to contain himself. "What is it about Gabriel that has you so worried?"

Michael looked quickly at Nikita, before moving away from her, desperate to gain some distance. She knew he could sense her eyes on him as he tried to maintain his composure. She had only seen him this agitated a hand full of times. She knew the aftermath of what would happen if he lost control. She knew she needed to be careful with her next words.

"You don't know him, Nikita," Michael said flatly.

"It's funny you should say that. In the last twenty-four hours, I know more about him than I have about you in the past three years. Some might say it's not him I shouldn't trust, it's you."

Michael's gaze fell.

"You can make your own choice. I'm just giving you some advice. You either take it, or not."

"You and your advice," Nikita seethed. "The longer I know you, it seems the less I know of you... Or maybe it's the less i wanna know. "

Nikita walked towards the door. She looked back at Michael who now looked defeated.

"I'll be in Systems if you have any more advice you want to give."

* * *

Chapter Four

Michael shut down his computer and grabbed his gym bag. He felt so tight from the day's activities, he just wanted to let loose on something. His last conversation with Nikita had gone as well as he could ever expect. He knew she was going to balk about exercising care when dealing with Gabriel. He wished he could tell her exactly why it was that he advised her to be careful, but he just couldn't. He felt she should just take the advice. If he cared enough to give it, she should at least consider it.

Michael walked out of his office, locked the door, then headed for the workout room. He was thankful that most of the operatives in the building had gone home for the evening. There was only Birkoff at his station and a few others in Communications. His eyes wandered over towards Nikita's desk and found her gone, likely already at home by now. He wished he had been able to get through to her without out right displaying everything in full detail to her. She should have known by now, after three years, that he would not tell her anything that was not for her benefit in some way. Certainly he had lied a few times, mainly to protect Section when he knew that it could not be protected while in her hands, but other than those few times, he was honest with her. Out of all the people in Section, she was the only person that knew him almost as well as he knew her. She sensed him, which was likely the reason why they worked so well together. They knew each other's rhythms, could interpret each other's looks, and even sometimes think through situations in the same way. When he rolled, she rolled. When he shot, she shot. And when she breathed, he could.

He changed out quickly, eager to get in a good workout before he headed home. He put on a pair of earphones and some music to meditate to. He had felt chaotic all day. He needed to center himself and reaffirm his deeper principals. He had allowed his emotions run too freely during the day. It had twisted his thoughts and made him react to his normal daily stressors with much more energy than what was necessary. There was nothing that he could do about Nikita right then. Whatever happened on the mission was really up to her. He could do nothing to help her, or direct her actions in any way. The only thing that he could do was his part of the mission. He had to concentrate on his job.

He already picked out his team and was overseeing their training and field maneuvers so that they would be ready for whatever was thrown at them while they were away. He would have to get home and begin packing. Usually, on extended stays like the one coming up, he would stay at Section just in case any last minute orders came through that needed reviewing. Tonight would be the only night he would get to do a full workout before he had to switch his mind to the mission.

After meditating, Michael stretched before moving to work on the bags, going through a memorized set of reps consisting of punches and kicks. He switched his player to begin a file detailing the mission notes, committing much of it to memory. As he worked, he barely noticed the doors to the workout room open and allow in a person. He caught a glimpse of the man setting down his own backpack then pulling off his loosely laced combat boots. He padded over to the bag next to him, and began a series of low kicks.

"How's it going?"

Michael looked over and saw who it was that was working out next to him. He resisted the urge to sneer. Instead, he remained silent, kicking the bag in controlled paces.

"So you're just not going to talk to me at all, are you?" said Gabriel as he switched from low kicks to mid level kicks.

Michael switched from kicks to punch and kick combinations.

"It's okay if you don't wanna talk. Just thought maybe you had something you wanted to say to me since the last time we spoke."

Michael's punches became slightly heavier, digging into the bag.

"I hoped that you would. But I guess not. You know me. I'm always so very hopeful." Gabriel switched to high kicks.

Michael hit the bag a little harder, rattling the chains a bit more violently.

"Oooh! Someone's tense."

Michael cut a glance at Gabriel before redirecting himself and his emotions back at the bag. He leveled a few more heavy punches before beginning a combination of short punches and elbow strikes.

"I wonder who it is you are imagining being that bag," Gabriel continued. He stopped kicking and began a set of concentrated straight punches.

Michael hit harder, rattling the chains. This time, he nearly hurt his wrist having forgotten to keep it straight. He rubbed the sore area.

"Be careful there, big guy. These bags will get'cha," Gabriel joked.

Michael wiped the sweat beginning to form on his forehead and walked away from the bags. He went towards the treadmills and set the course he wanted to run. He had hoped that he had sent the signal that he did not want to be bothered, but he knew Gabriel would not let things go. Within a few minutes, the long haired pest followed him over to the treadmills and got on the one right next to him. He started a jog at a moderate speed with no set program to follow. Michael continued running his course, trying to ignore Gabriel's sly grin. He was wearing headphones this time, listening to music as he ran.

For the moment, the two men ran, nearly at the same speed, their feet hitting the tread simultaneously. Michael listened only to his own breathing while Gabriel listened to what Michael could only deduce was some sort of pop track. Gabriel was bobbing to the beat as he ran. There were a lot of things that he did not like about Gabriel, but what he couldn't take from him was his natural musical talent. It was the only thing that he admired about him because it was something that he could never master on his own. At least, not the type of music that Gabriel was into. Michael knew that if Nikita ever got wind of his real talent, the one that Section did not cultivate in him, she would be head over heels for him. The type of music that Gabriel made was nothing but emotion, hard and raw, and full of angst.

Just like Nikita.

Nikita loved music. She seemed to always be surrounded by it. He did not always understand her need for it, but he tolerated it. He always preferred the solace of silence or at the very least, classical.

Michael finished his course and went to get water. Gabriel blessedly remained on the treadmill. After getting bottled water from the vending, he took a moment to rest and catch his breath before beginning floor exercise with a wooden mock katana blade. The gym was empty save the two of them. World news played on the television monitors.

Michael closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise of world destruction and mayhem. He was growing tired of listening to chaos. There seemed to be an endless fount of it everywhere. He longed for a day when he could wake and find that there was no more war, no more hate, no more despair...No more Section.

"You know, it's a shame," said Gabriel, walking up to Michael to get a drink.

He studied the selection of vitamin waters, sodas, energy drinks, and water. He selected an energy drink and waited as it rumbled down to him.

"To go through all this and still don't make any kind of difference whatsoever."

Michael looked at Gabriel, wondering his meaning, but still saying nothing.

"I mean, look at that," said Gabriel pointing at the monitors. "Now I know we've shut down at least four weapons facilities, like, a month ago, but what did it do? The world is still going to implode on itself. We're destined to die in a mushroom cloud."

He turned to Michael. "You think it will matter if you find that weapons cache? I mean, you find that one, but there's, like, *hundreds* more in places we don't know about. Why even go?"

Michael thought about what Gabriel said, feeling a little conflicted. He often wondered why he bothered at all doing mission after mission, trying to save humanity from itself when it so clearly wanted to tear itself apart. He had seen too much of its scars and its sins to think that it could ever be truly saved. Yet, there was a small part of him that still believed that what he was doing was helping in some way to make the world better. Maybe he couldn't save it for himself, but maybe he could for others.

"Then again, maybe playing Super heroes is just what this world needs. A band of Justice League screw ups that managed to gain super powers by being unfortunate souls. I wonder what our super powers would be," Gabriel mused. "You probably wouldn't have any super powers. Or maybe you'd be like a zombie. You would just walk and talk like normal, but be all dead inside. Kinda like Frankenstein. Or Dracula. Well...maybe not Dracula. You have to be sexy to be him. Clearly you're not that."

Gabriel looked Michael over with a scrutinizing glance. He chuckled to himself a small moment before continuing.

"What would mine be? Mine would be...I'd be a sexy god! Able to satisfy multiple women in a single night. Beat the truth out of them all with my whip and make them beg for more. Shit, I'm already that," Gabriel smiled. "And then there's Nikita."

Gabriel took another seeing of his drink, then rested it on his stomach. He was no longer paying much mind to Michael as he daydreamed. Michael watched him warily, keeping his expression blank and his eyes focused just past where Gabriel stood.

"Well she is dead sexy as hell, with legs longer than a New York mile." He cut a glance towards Michael. "Bet her super powers are probably in the bedroom, too."

Michael bristled. He fought to contain the brimming anger that threatened to explode from him. He turned to face Gabriel, his expression only vaguely resembling annoyance.

"What is it that you want?

Gabriel smiled around his energy drink balanced at his lips. He took a long, thoughtful swig.

"Nothing. Right now."

He started to walk off, but stopped. He spun slowly on his heels and returned to Michael.

"Actually. I do want something," he said leveling his frigid gaze on Michael "I want an actual apology from you. I want you to finally admit that you made a mistake. That in all your supposed perfection, the almighty Michael Samuelle fucked up."

Michael only told his head with mild interest. His expression maintained an even calmness unmoved by Gabriel's words. Gabriel considered Michael's lack of reaction.

"Of course you don't think you screwed up. Why would you?" said Gabriel, his tone full of heat.

"What exactly are you referring to?" asked Michael.

"You know damn well what mission I'm referring to. The Glass Curtain mission. The one you allowed Naya to get killed in."

"There were alot of operatives lost on that mission, not just Naya," said Michael.

"Admit it! You meant to take Naya from me. You meant to get her killed. She wasn't even on abeyance!" Gabriel shouted angrily.

"The mission was not without obstacles. We lost a lot of good operatives," said Michael trying hard to not sneer at Gabriel.

He wanted to say more and argue that Naya wasn't the only casualty during the Glass Curtain mission. He had lost someone special as well. Instead, he allowed Gabriel to continue his rant. He had half expected it much sooner.

"Obstacles?" Gabriel looked erratic.

"The order had been given to move to egress. There could be no changes from that point. Naya knew this and decided to stay back."

"Adjustments could have been made. They do it all the time."

"Not on that mission."

"I want an apology," Gabriel hissed.

"I have nothing to apologize for. I never took Naya from you. I didn't get her killed. She made her own choices."

"I'm pretty sure she would not have chosen to die. You could have helped her. You could have gone back for her." Gabriel was beginning to become unhinged as he spoke.

"If I had gone back, the mission would have failed. The entire team would have been compromised."

"Naya sacrificed herself to save the mission. If she had not done what she had done, the entire mission would have failed and many more operatives would have died."

Gabriel's lips curled into a sneer. "You went after her and when she wouldn't fall for you, you conveniently refused her help and had her cancelled. You sacrificed my fiance' to save your own ass. Admit it."

"It couldn't be avoided," said Michael in a near whisper.

The memory of the night Naya was killed and Simone taken rushed back to him in flashes. He had not wanted to remember any of it, but his mind never let go of the fatal words he was ordered to speak. He knew Gabriel had no knowledge of the mission parameters or that Operations considered the mission a success despite the casualties. All that anyone knew and spoke about was the fact that Michael had, in his cold and calculated manner, left an entire team to be slaughtered in favor of meeting a checkpoint goal during a cold mission turned hot.

Gabriel drew very close to Michael, staring him down eye to eye. Michael remained stone faced, not giving an ounce of care or concern to Gabriel who looked like he was about to explode into a tantrum.

"You're a cold and heartless piece of shit," Gabriel whispered. "You could have done something. You could have helped. Instead, you left her out in the dirt like a wounded dog. Even less."

Gabriel began moving around Michael, keeping his eyes steady with him.

"But it's okay now. I've dealt with the loss. I've managed the pain. Now there is only the correction."

Michael remained silent, feeling a blossom of irritation in his stomach. He wanted more than anything to scream back at Gabriel that it wasn't his fault, but he kept quiet one-on-one it would be pointless. Gabriel was committed to his beliefs. There would be no reasoning with him.

Gabriel began walking over towards his backpack. He picked it up and slung it over one shoulder.

"You know, that Nikita. She is pretty cool," he began sounding less agitated than he was earlier. " I see why you like her so much. What I don't see is what she sees in you. That I will never understand."

He snatched up his boots and tied the laces together so that he could sling them over his shoulder as well.

Michael felt his stress levels rising to near explosion from where he had stowed them away. He clenched his jaw tight. It was all he could do not to go over to Gabriel and choke him to death. He stood, holding his hands tightly and willing himself not to react to Gabriel even though he truly did feel like ripping out his throat.

"She does have the most beautiful smile," Gabriel went on, drinking his energy drink between thoughts. "And she smells so good. Like orchids. She's got such a nice tight little body. Umph! What I wouldn't give to go play in that winter wonderland. But, maybe you already have, haven't you? You already know what it's like to have those long legs around you. Know what it feels like deep inside her. To feel her warmth. Her taste. Quite honestly, I'm not even sure how you could let something like that slip through your fingers. Either you'r really stupid, or you're just dumb as fuck. Had it been me, I would have held on tight and never let that go. Course, if it were me, she'd probably be dead too, wouldn't she be Michael. But you know, it's not enough to kill her. You'll get over that too quickly. But if I take her from you, you get to watch her walk away."

"What makes you think I would care if she goes with you?"

Gabriel's smile spread across his face slowly as if pulled by strings.

"You care," said Gabriel. "She's your material... Your pupil... Your woman." Gabriel did not wait for Micheal to react. "She'll go with me. She already wants to. All that I would have to do is give her just a little more rope, and she'll gladly hang herself on it." Gabriel grabbed his crotch suggesting what type of rope he meant. "I'll gladly let her dangle. Maybe the both of you want to tag team up on it. It's nothing to me. I wouldn't mind it."

Michael's jaw tensed even more.

"Vae victis."

Gabriel gave Michael an elaborate salute, switching his hand position midway into a middle finger flipping him off. He then turned and walked out of the workout room.

* * *

Chapter Five

"The mission is set to go live tomorrow morning. Nikita has already established preliminary contact with the target. She will be meeting with her in the morning for their first session. We've added a new component to the mission profile. You'll need to look at your panels to gain further details. Gabriel, we have taken extra liberties in getting for you all the necessary equipment and resources you will need to complete your assignment. You can go see Madeline in wardrobe," said Operations.

"If it's all the same, I'd like to pick out my own clothes," said Gabriel. He ignored Madeline's disappointed expression.

"Very well. I don't see why that would be a problem. Do you?" Operations turned to Madeline.

"He would know better than any of us what he feels comfortable in wearing," said Madeline evenly.

"Good. Well, let's get in place. That will be all."

Operations handed Nikita and Gabriel the new mission profile disc. Nikita and Gabriel turned and left Command. Nikita looked at the disc, wondering what updates had been made. Gabriel half jogged down the staircase. He paused for a moment for Nikita to catch back up.

"What resources was Operation talking about?"

Gabriel strode alongside Nikita heading for her station.

"I asked him to get me a few things. Couple of band mates."

"Bandmates? Why do we need that?" Nikita sat down at her station.

"We don't, but I do," said Gabriel. "Claudette is a classic groupie. She follows acts all across the country. She fancies herself being a Yoko to a Lennon." Gabriel leaned leisurely against Nikita's desk and folded his arms.

"And I take it you're Lennon?"

"Well I certainly can't be Yoko. Although I could probably fit her skirt size."

Nikita laughed. The sound floated over the work area gaining a few glances their way. A few of the female operatives lingered a little longer, noticing who it was that had come into their immediate presence. Nikita pulled up the mission profile and looked at the updates made by Madeline. She noticed that several performance dates were added to their objectives. The dates were spread over a week's time frame filling up their evening schedules.

"What are all these performance dates? Is this for you?"

"Of course," said Gabriel.

"You sing?"

"Of course."

"I didn't know that." Nikita was a little amazed by this discovery.

"I didn't tell you," said Gabriel. "Besides, I didn't know if Section could use that. I suggested it as a way to get closer to Claudette seeing as how she likes musicians. I play guitar and I write music. Sometimes I perform it. It's a local thing, not a lot of people know about it. Section doesn't exactly make it easy to break into the music industry what with me being dead and all. Kinda makes it hard to get a Grammy."

Nikita laughed again and shook her head, still amazed. "Every time I think I know you, you pop up with something new."

"Well," Gabriel spun around and positioned himself over Nikita's shoulder, speaking directly into her ear. "If you wanna know more about me Kita, why not just ask me. I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know."

Nikita turned towards him, nearly brushing his lips with hers. The way he said her name made her think of Michael, only the way Gabriel said it seemed a bit more alluring. She could feel the breath of each consonant push across her ear.

"Maybe I will."

They looked deeply into one another's eyes for a brief moment, before Nikita noticed someone else staring at them from across the room. She looked and saw Michael walking past, dressed out to head to transport with his team. His eyes stayed on her for a moment before moving away. Nikita felt a little odd seeing Michael walk by with Gabriel so near to her. She adjusted herself and leaned forward away from Gabriel.

There were several other updates involving their timeline. Claudette would only be in the house alone for a few hours each day while her husband was at work. This would be the time they would have to gain her trust and insert Gabriel into her life. Once this happened, they could begin the second phase of their mission, which was to begin carving out more time for her to meet with Gabriel. The performance dates were set up so that Claudette could live out her fantasy as a groupie of a popular singer. Nikita was to be her alibi should her husband begin to become suspicious of their time together. Nikita's role now was as Gabriel's personal trainer and good friend. She would be the one to begin getting Claudette backstage clearance to meet and spend time with Gabriel. As the two became closer, her role would dissolve back to just being a friend to encourage the relationship.

"This is going to be interesting," said Nikita. "What kind of music do you play?"

"Rock with a little bit of everything thrown in. You should come by the studio some time to have a listen."

"The studio?" Nikita was more than impressed.

"It's one of the resources I asked Section to provide for me in order to give the mission more authenticity to the illusion. I have a real studio back home in California, but it's a little too far away for this endeavor I think."

"You think?"

"At any rate, you should come by and have a listen. That way, when you start talking about me to Claudette, you won't have to lie about how great you think I am."

Nikita did not hold back her skeptical chuckle. "I will hold judgement until after I've heard what you got."

"Then maybe you should come to my show tonight."

"You have a show tonight? That's not on the profile schedule."

"I know, I set it up before all this got changed. I was already going to be doing one. You should come out. Bring a friend if you need one. I'll give your name to the guy at the door so you can get in for free."

"That's cool," said Nikita, feigning unconcern. In reality, she was more than interested in going to check out Gabriel and his band.

"Great! I go on at about 9:30pm so don't be late. Place will be plenty crowded so you might wanna get there a little early." Gabriel rose up from the desk.

He reached into the back pocket of his way too skinny black jeans and produced a card. He handed it to Nikita. Nikita looked at the embossed lettering that read THE PIT. There was an address imprinted on the bottom of the card. She started to ask a question, but realized that Gabriel had already walked off from her desk. She looked at the card again and considered the invitation.

* * *

Nikita felt a little awkward walking up to the line leading into the small venue advertised as being The Pit. She had decided to put on an electric blue leather mini skirt and paired it with a black leather bustier and a long black leather coat. She figured she would likely be standing much of the evening, so she decided to put on a pair of graffiti Doc Martens. Behind her, Birkoff nervously followed, looking frightened to even be outside of Section. It was not usual for him to leave the confines of the building where he both worked and lived. He was always sitting in front of a computer and very rarely had any human contact that wasn't Section. Nikita decided he needed to get out of Section a while and experience life for once. The last time she did this, he looked freaked and began rambling incoherently about an echo. Whatever it was, it was important information that had to be relayed back to the team in field, which later resulted in them having to go on a rescue mission to get the team out. She remembered Michael appearing from out of nowhere, Rambo-ing his way towards extraction. Had he not shown up when he did, she and Birkoff might have been overwhelmed by hostiles.

"C'mon slow poke. The door is this way," said Nikita to Birkoff who still looked like he might piss on himself.

He had not bothered to change his clothes from earlier that day. He was still in his collard brown and yellow polo shirt and cargo pants. No doubt there was likely more than a few electronic contraptions hidden within his multiple pockets. His red tint glasses paired up well with the cherry hue of his lips. Nikita threw an arm around his neck, hoping that her mood would transfer to him and calm him down. She could already hear the music playing inside. It was a hard, heart pounding beat with heavy guitar riffs and synthesizer sounds. The bouncer, a very large muscle bound beast of a man, grunted for their names. Nikita gave her name and added Birkoff as her plus one. The bouncer looked them over and checked the clipboard sandwiched between his paw-like hands. He nodded and gestured for the other bouncer to let them in. Nikita smiled and kissed at the bouncer as she led Birkoff with her inside the club.

Once inside, Nikita started to feel a bit more excited. It was nice to go to a club that wasn't a part of a mission. The environment was full of energy and interesting people floating about holding electric colored drinks. The music continued to resonate over every surface, inviting them to join in with the vibrations. Birkoff looked about himself with even more apprehension than what he had outside. Nikita continued to lead him further into the club, heading for the bar to get their first drinks.

"Who are we here to see again?" Birkoff screamed over the music.

"We're here to see Gabriel," said Nikita. "He's playing tonight."

"Gabriel?" Birkoff was more than in disbelief. "He's in a band?"

"Yes. He's supposed to be on in a few minutes."

Nikita turned her attention to the bartender and ordered two drinks, a whiskey sour for her and a non-alcoholic beer for Birkoff. She handed the beer to Birkoff and took a sip of her own drink. She detected that the Bartender put a little more whiskey than what was necessary in the drink. It was very stiff, but not undrinkable. She checked her watch and saw that it was five minutes past the time Gabriel said he was supposed to be on stage. The music continued for a minute more before it died down. Nikita looked toward the stage, but found it hard to see anything. She grabbed Birkoff by the collar and dragged him with her as she moved closer towards the stage. She found seats at the end of the bar and sat down. From where they were, they had a great view of the stage.

A group of band members began setting up on stage. In the pitch black, the only thing that Nikita could see were silhouettes. A white light backlit the stage bleeding through mist and smoke. There was the sound of something rising, then heavy guitar and drum came in like a rushing wave. Gabriel began the chorus of his song, his voice pressing out forcefully, colored by the riffs he played on his electric guitar. He continued to be in silhouette as the pulse of the rhythm made him appear ghost-like. The energy in the song was infectious and merciless, charging into the crowd. Mid way through the song, his vocals blasted out, climbing in octave reaching towards a climax that suddenly and abruptly ended. The next song he began had a much faster tempo like that of a racing heartbeat. Gabriel approached the microphone as if attacking it. He sang in full voice, his tone moving through the crowd like a tornado.

Nikita did not notice that she had not drank one sip of her drink since Gabriel began singing. She was transfixed by the wild nature of the performance. Gabriel became the music as he sang and spun on stage. He wore a white shirt, unbuttoned nearly down to his naval and flowing out from his svelte frame. He had traded his super tight black jeans for a pair of black and yellow pants that fit just as tight. His hair was down and wild about his shoulders. In the smoke heavy lights of the stage, he looked god-like standing before the crowd. He moved sensuously, exuding both sex and power. The electric guitar he played rested flush against his groin so that when he swiveled it shifted seductively with him. As he played, the focus was deliberately at him making it hard for anyone watching him to not look. Nikita raised an eyebrow of interest, noticing him and remembering their moment together in her kitchen. He had been so close to her, nearly a breath away. When she was at her desk, he had drawn even closer still. So close, she could almost kiss him.

The crowd began to swirl in response to Gabriel's command, jumping and spinning with him. Nikita continued to stare, overwhelmed by the music. She could feel it rippling through her skin, touching on her nerves in a most delicious way. Gabriel's screaming chorus sent a shockwave through her and she could not deny it's force. He continued to rip through the air, controlling the heartbeat of the room, bending it towards his will. His next song was one that was slower, and meaner. As he formed the words, his lips curled around the syllables making them seem menacing. There was anger and malice within his words, punctuated by the heavy grate of his electric guitar.

"Hey! Hey! What do you got! It doesn't matter to me, 'cause I don't want it. I'm not the only one," Gabriel sang swaying with the beat.

He repeated the chorus, shaking his head and beginning to jump. He went into another song, one that was just as base driven as the one before it. He raced over to one side of the stage and sang at a group of women who reached out for him. He pulled back, staying out of reach of them. He was obviously driving them wild with his antics, teasing them by moving towards them then backing off from them just as they were about to touch him.

Nikita looked over at Birkoff and watched him. He had not moved either, his eyes fixed on the stage. His jaw went slack slightly, stuck in awe. If he admired Michael for all of his natural dominant presence, he was falling in love with Gabriel for his explosive on stage glamour. He watched with ever growing adoration as Gabriel raged through his last song showcasing his vocal talents. When he reached the climax of the song, he screamed out the note while raking hard on his guitar. At the end of the song, Gabriel thanked the crowd and bowed graciously before exiting the stage.

Finally, Birkoff turned towards Nikita and mouthed the words *wow*. Nikita smiled, nodding her head. She began drinking her whiskey sour, grateful that the ice in it melted and took some of the heat down from the whiskey.

"Pretty amazing," said Nikita.

Music similar to what was playing earlier when they first arrived began to play again over the speakers before the next act came up to play. Nikita sipped the last of her drink and watched as Birkoff began to loosen up a little, no doubt believing that the beer he had in his hand had alcohol in it. She was glad that she could bring him out to see how everyone else lived away from Section. She had always thought it unnecessarily cruel to keep him locked away. She asked for another drink with a warning that if he made that one stiff, he would be feeling it up his asshole. The bartender looked a little shocked, but nodded his obedience. He made Nikita's drink the proper way. A man in a black suit and tie came through the crowd and tapped Nikita on the shoulder.

"Gabriel requested you to join him backstage."

Nikita reacted, a little surprised. She grabbed Birkoff and followed the man to the back of the club. They went down a long red corridor crowded with people before coming to a graffiti marked door. The man knocked on the door. The music could still be heard thundering behind them, only a little muffled. Behind the door, women's laughter could be heard filtering out from inside the room. The door finally opened revealing half naked women dancing about carrying bottles of champagne. The band members lounged amid the debauchery half drunk and lazy from exertion. Nikita looked about the room, not very surprised by what she saw. Birkoff, on the other hand, did not bother to wipe the drool beginning down his chin. Nikita took the liberty of swiping the spital off his jaw. Birkoff looked a little embarrassed that he had been caught drooling and tried to finish wiping his own mouth.

"You made it!" said Gabriel, emerging from the throng of women surrounding him.

He had shed his shirt and was just in his pants. His sleek frame appeared even more dangerous as strange tattoos of celestial symbols dotted over his body and arms. He was muscular, as she expected, but much more defined than she thought. She could not help but see how his pants hugged his hips, balancing just at his hip bones. She could see the defined lines leading down further, disappearing behind a thick leather belt. He was swaying a little, still moving to the music playing in his head. Nikita noticed even in his quiet moments, he was still hearing music.

"How could I miss it," said Nikita.

"And you brought a friend," said Gabriel, noticing Birkoff. He put a heavy hand on the young man's shoulder forceful enough to make him lose balance a little.

"You are freaking amazing man," Birkoff gushed. "I mean! I've heard some great bands but what I saw tonight! Just wow! Wow man! You literally blew my mind, and that's pretty hard to do, but wow man! Just wow!"

Gabriel kept his smile, but his eyes told that he was becoming a little uncomfortable with Birkoff. Nikita quickly came to save Birkoff from any further embarrassment. She pulled him a step back allowing Gabriel to put his hands into his pockets as best he could. He was only able to shove in his fingertips as the pants were extremely tight.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate that," said Gabriel, his voice much softer than what was displayed on stage.

"Freaking amazing." Birkoff took another step back and focused his attention on the rest of the room, now distracted by the many pairs of breasts that were moving freely about the room.

"Guess that's it, huh," said Gabriel, noticing how quickly Birkoff moved on from him.

"He thinks very linear," Nikita explained jokingly. "Give him a little slack."

"Perfectly understood. I often have a one track mind, too," said Gabriel, his words meaning something else entirely. He kept a steady gaze with Nikita as he drew closer.

Nikita noticed he was close, but did not back away this time. Despite the other scents and odors in the room, she could still smell him fragrantly above it all. He was a curious mix of both feminine and male scent purposefully tantalizing.

Two half naked women approached him from behind, moving their hands seductively over his back, shoulders, and around his well defined pecs. Nikita smirked a little, not at all unfamiliar with the vibe. Whenever she was on a mission with Michael, he seemed to get the same type of attention. It used to annoy her, back when she cared enough to be annoyed. Now she simply tossed it all up to the mission profile, and she had learned how to appear unbothered, mainly because she was. With Gabriel, there was a slight twinge of jealousy that sparked within her. Immediately and instinctual Nikita quelled the feeling and maintained her same expression. She was not sure how long she would be able to keep up the facade as Gabriel's gaze did not break from her even with the women pawing at him. He maintained an intense concentration with her. Nikita began to feel like she was about to lose their impromptu staring contest. She fought to keep her eyes with his and not avert them.

Someone shrieked with laughter from behind Nikita.

The sound momentarily distracted Gabriel pulling his attention. Nikita blinked and let go of the air she had been holding. The laughing continued a little subdued now. Gabriel returned to Nikita. The women continued to vie for his attention, but it was obvious he was not giving it to them. He politely moved away from them, giving them both a parting smile before moving closer to Nikita, putting an arm around her for a hug. He led her towards a spot in the room likely set aside just for him. There were large comfortable pillows and candles burning. Several rugs piled on top of one another along with deep color blankets made up the area. Gabriel settled down among the cushions, relaxing back and appearing like an arabian prince. Nikita managed with some difficulty to get down to the floor without ripping her skirt or exposing herself. She noticed Gabriel watching her, holding a glass of wine produced from somewhere in his secret stash in the corner.

"Need any help?" he asked, but did not look like he was going to be much of any.

"I can manage," said Nikita, finally finding a suitable way to sit down on the floor in her almost too tight skirt.

"Drink?"

"Love one," said Nikita.

Gabriel set his own glass down on an exposed place on the floor before reaching behind him. Nikita could see a small wine refrigerator disguised by cloths draped over it. He pulled out a bottle of champagne and located a wine glass. He poured a glass and handed it to Nikita. He relaxed back again, retrieving his glass and watched Nikita.

"You have an amazing voice," said Nikita after taking a long sip of her champagne.

"So I've heard," said Gabriel, grinning mischievously.

"Have you always been a singer?"

"You mean before Section got a hold of me? Yes. I was an underground artist before I got arrested and sent to jail."

"Do you mind me asking what you were arrested for?" Nikita drank more, very interested.

"I'll tell you what I went down for if you tell me what you went for."

Nikita gulped another drink. "Murder."

Gabriel tilted his head, interested. "Huh! Murder...Never would have thought that."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't look like that's what you would do."

"Really? What did you think I did to get into Section?"

Gabriel pushed up his lips, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Not murder," he said and took a sip. "Maybe accomplice to, but not directly."

"Well, you'd be the first to actually believe that. No one at Section seems to want to. They keep telling me I did, and are trying very hard to prove that."

"Did you?"

"No."

Gabriel nodded, understanding.

"So...your turn. What about you?"

Gabriel finished his drink and went to refill his glass.

"Murder, but, like you, I was framed for it."

"You were?" Nikita was very interested.

For a moment, Gabriel looked pained at the memory. His eyes seemed to reflect something more terrible happening within his thoughts, then suddenly, the mask broke and he began to giggle.

"Naah! I'm joking. I totally did it."

Nikita sat back against the cushions feeling a little foolish for having believed him when he told her he had been framed like her. He continued to giggle as he drank his god only knew how many drinks. She turned her attention back towards the room to find Birkoff asking a million questions to the band mates and likely getting on their nerves. The naked women seemed to settle down, surrounding the bandmates. A few of them huddled in a corner, entertaining themselves with their own conversations and drinks. Nikita looked again at Gabriel and saw that his eyes were closed. He had put earbuds in his ears, listening to music. At first she considered him rude for doing so, but was quickly taken by the peaceful expression on his face. She wondered what sort of beautiful world had he been transported to while lying against the cushions listening to music. His lips were moving to words she could not hear. He was singing again, but not for anyone else, just to himself. She could hear his soft falsetto lifting just below the noise of the room. The sound was so effortlessly tantalizing, she could not help but find it incredibly enticing.

Something fell over creating a ruckus over where Birkoff was seated. Nikita saw Birkoff jump up from his seat holding his hands out in a sort of submissive apology. The thing that fell over was a speaker balanced precariously on a table too small to hold it situated just behind where Birkoff was sitting. One of the bandmates stood up, obviously pissed off. He started towards Birkoff, his eyes full of fury. Nikita pulled herself off the floor and made her way quickly over to where Birkoff and the bandmate were standing.

"What the hell is he doing back here anyway?" asked the bandmate angrily.

"Hey man, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to knock it over. It was an accident."

"What's going on?" asked Nikita, her expression more of warning than actual concern.

"This little punk nearly broke my speaker," said the bandmate.

"It was an accident," said Birkoff.

Nikita made a gesture telling Birkoff to be quiet. She returned to the bandmate.

"It's cool. The speaker just fell over. It's not a big deal so just chill out."

"Not a big deal?" The bandmate was not placated in the least. "Do you know how much that one speaker cost?"

"However much it cost, if it's broken, I'll pay for a new one. Let's just all calm down."

The bandmate sneered at Nikita and took a threatening step towards her. Nikita's eyes flashed an immediate anger. She repositioned herself to defend herself against the somewhat thin bandmate. She anticipated him trying to slap her. She made sure she could block his hit and counter with one of her own.

"What are you going to do if I don't? Cute me to death?"

Nikita smirked a little. "Is my cuteness threatening to you?"

The bandmate straightened his back, looking over Nikita's form with both challenge and interest.

"How about you and your friends take a seat and chill out before things get *really* rowdy in here." Nikita kept her tone low and meaningful.

The bandmate started towards Nikita, but then looked off to her side, and retreated. Nikita looked and saw Gabriel standing next to her, supporting her flank. His blue eyes looked even more freakish as he glared at his bandmate. He nodded slightly, telling the bandmate without words that he should do as Nikita had said. The bandmate gave Nikita and Birkoff a last sneer before returning to his seat. Someone had picked up the speaker and set it back on the table. Gabriel turned to Nikita.

"I think we better go now," said Nikita. She caught a frightened and seething Birkoff standing close to the door, obviously desiring to leave.

Gabriel nodded in agreement. He walked Nikita to the door.

"Did you really like the show?" he asked.

Nikita nodded. "Yes. Very much. Way more than I thought I would."

"You thought I'd be terrible, didn't you."

"I had my doubts when you told me where you were playing," Nikita admitted. "But you really surprised me."

"Now maybe you know what I feel like every day I see you," said Gabriel. He reached to touch her elbow.

Nikita felt a shiver move through her. Their eyes met once more, sharing a moment between them. He began to draw closer to her, his lips parting slightly. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her, but then saw that he was only reaching to open the door to let them out. Birkoff hurriedly went into the hall, wishing to be free of the now hostile room. Nikita was a little slower to leave, not wanting to separate from the space that Gabriel inhabited. He hung half inside the room, half outside of it.

"See you soon," he said. "Get some rest."

"You too. Don't stay up too late tonight," said Nikita, hinting at the condition of the room she was leaving him to.

"I'm a musician. We're nothing but late nights."

* * *

Chapter Six

Operations stepped into Madeline's office carrying with him a file disc and a very please grin. He handed the file to Madeline who looked at it with some skepticism. She looked up at Operations.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked with a slow smile.

"Check it out for yourself and tell me," said Operations.

Madeline loaded the disc into her monitor and watched the playback footage of field maneuvers during a strike operation. Michael's voice could be heard giving precise direction to field operatives as they moved through a weapons storage facility placing specialized charges on equipment throughout the facility. A short gun battle erupted as the team came into contact with resistance. Michael directed the team expertly and moved them to their extraction point. The entire ordeal lasted only minutes before Michael confirmed their target contained.

"Excellent work," said Madeline, removing the disc. "Where is Michael's team now?"

"Moving forward to their next coordinance. The intel we received has been confirmed and Michael's team will be there in under an hour now. We should be hearing back from him within two hours."

Madeline gave Operations a closed lip smile. She turned to face him fully and placed her hands on her desk. Operations took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk and crossed his legs.

"My end is doing well, how is Gabriel and Nikita doing? Have they checked in yet?"

"Nikita has," said Madeline evenly. "She says her meeting with Claudette went well. She has gained her friendship quite easily and quickly. They are going to go to Gabriel's show tonight where she will introduce the two. She has been talking him up to Claudette and believes she has conjured some interest."

"Have you heard from Gabriel at all?"

"No. He has not checked in with a status. I imagine he is waiting to meet with Claudette before reporting."

"Nikita has been spending a lot of time with Gabriel lately."

"Yes she has." Madeline leaned back.

"Do you think there may be something developing between them?"

"Possibly. It's too early to tell." Madeline turned back to her monitor and pulled up a still frame of Nikita and Gabriel together at her work station. "They certainly do look rather close."

"It will help with their cover."

Madeline nodded. "It may help Michael finally disconnect from Nikita. Once he sees she has let go of all further notions of their being a relationship between them, he will have no choice."

"He will probably fight this," said Operations.

"Not if he sees it's what Nikita wants. He will comply."

"Let's hope this works then...For Michael's sake...And our own." Operations stood to his feet and started out of the office. He turned back to Madeline. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"Actually no, I haven't."

"Thai?"

Madeline thought about the offer. "That sounds wonderful."

* * *

Nikita pressed forward through the crowd, trying to maintain her place in line. The evening was unusually balmy despite it being autumn. The last remnants of summer continued to grip the city making it hard to figure out what to wear. Nikita had decided on red leather pants that barely went over her hips, black boots, and a black cut off t-shirt with an Aerosmith emblem on the front. Her hair was fixed into pigtails with fuzzy puffs holding the tails in place. Behind her, Claudette squeezed pensively up to her. She looked about her at all the people crowding to get inside the club with wide fearful brown eyes. She was a mousey type woman with brown hair that curled frizzly about her round head. She had a sweet face, appearing awestruck much of the time, with a bright smile and chipper demeanor. When Nikita first met her, she almost thought she had the wrong person. She seemed much too young to be the wife of a millionaire arms dealer. She figured her youth, or semblance thereof, was what attracted the much older Augustine to her. She looked well taken care of, and obviously spoiled beyond redemption. She was jovial, prancing about like a teenager in her multilevel mansion listening to Euro Pop music in her headphones. Nikita could not help but think of her as incurably cute. After their workout, she began talking to her about coming with her to a show. Claudette's eyes brightened at the idea and agreed almost impulsively. When she came to pick her up later that evening, Claudette nearly ran out the house, smiling broad and nearly out of breath already with excitement.

She wore an outfit that Nikita thought looked much too cute for a place like The Pit. She had chosen a baby pink mid drift shirt, a pink and black plaid mini skirt with pink suspenders, white knee socks, and brown mary janes. On her back was a mini Hello Kitty backpack purse. She hopped into Nikita's open top jeep. Nikita shook her head and started off towards the venue. The entire drive there, Nikita listened to Claudette gush about her ideas for getting into shape, what sort of body she wanted to end up with, her dedication towards her goals, and several complaints about her husband. Nikita only half listened as she drove, her mind on how awful she already felt for deceiving such an innocent. She almost hated delivering her into the jaws of someone like Gabriel, who undoubtedly would eat her alive. She could also see why someone like Claudette would not be terribly attracted to someone like Michael.

She was not very quiet, nor was she super serious. She was too bubbly to choke down Michael's terminal somberness. Michael could be much lighter when he tried to be, but almost always, he landed on being moody if not bleak. He often got profiles where the female was either going through some sort of emotional crisis and needed a savior, or a woman who was powerful and determined. Nikita suspected Michael chose these profiles because they gave him a challenge. Someone like Claudette might fall in love with him too quickly, and once she found out more about Michael's true nature, would want out of the relationship just as fast. Michael liked the challenge of someone not easily captured. With Gabriel, Nikita felt he would latch on to her quite fast and be a bit more compatible with her fun loving temperament.

Once the two women reached the door, Nikita gave her name to the bouncer who checked his clipboard. He recognized Nikita's name and smiled at her.

"New plus one?" the bouncer asked in a husky voice.

"Yup! My good girlfriend," said Nikita with a sly grin.

"You're friends are already inside," said the bouncer as he opened the door to let them through.

"Friends?" Nikita was unaware that anyone she knew might be there.

"Yeah, the young fella you came with last time. He brought two other ladies with him," said the bouncer.

Nikita nodded. "Thanks! I'll be sure to say hello, then."

Nikita pulled Claudette by the hand through the front entrance way into the club. She could tell by the mass of people outside that word had gotten around about Gabriel and his band which he named Beautiful Liars. The music inside the club was as it was before, a generic house beat throbbing through the walls. The lowered lighting made silly and long shadows on the walls. Strobe lighting flickered between long blasts of unfiltered light. Claudette looked about herself in mild amazement. Nikita pushed through the crowd to find a table close to the stage. The two of them settled down at their claimed table.

"Want a drink?" asked Nikita, trying to lift her voice over the loud music.

"Sure! Do they have apple juice?" asked Claudette innocently.

Nikita chuckled a little, reveling in her ignorance. She disappeared back into the fray, heading for the bar. Once she got to the sticky bar table, she waved down the bartender. She ordered her usual drink of a Whiskey sour and a strawberry daiquiri for Claudette. She paid and started back to the table when she caught a glance of Birkoff appearing at the bar.

"Hey! What are you doing out here?"

Birkoff turned, looking surprised. He smiled, seeing Nikita. "I came out to see Gabriel."

"Who'd you bring with you?"

Birkoff faltered a moment before answering. "Just two friends of mine, Terri and Lisa."

Birkoff pointed at his table at the two young ladies sitting there. Nikita nodded her approval. She gave Birkoff a knowing look.

"You behave yourself tonight," she said.

Birkoff nervously laughed, catching Nikita's meaning.

Nikita made her way back to her table just as the lights began to go down. She handed Claudette her drink and sat down beside her. The band was already on stage with Gabriel somewhat hidden in the darkness. The drums began to pound quickly, beating a fast heartbeat that raced through the audience. Gabriel began his first verse while playing his guitar. The lights were not all the way up on him yet, hiding him from view during the first song. The aggressive sound of the guitars and drums made him seem larger than life. At the end of the first song, he went directly into the next song. The lights came up on the stage finally revealing him.

He had pulled his hair back into a half ponytail with the lower half of his hair left falling around his naked shoulders. He was shirtless, displaying his amazing physique, and wearing a black and red kilt and black combat boots. The kilt balanced precariously on his hips, held in place with a heavy black leather belt. A band of red color makeup was painted over his eyes making him look like he was wearing a mask. He stayed at the microphone, eyes closed, completely engrossed in his own lyrics as his voice melded with the guitar drives. Nikita, for the moment, was once more transfixed by the image of him on stage, bathed in light and sweat. She, like everyone else in the building, could not move a muscle while he had them under his spell. Nikita looked at Claudette, wondering if she had been captured the same as she. As she expected, Claudette had not only been captured, but was essentially enslaved. Her eyes followed Gabriel as he moved across the stage, seamlessly going into the next song without pausing the thunderous beat. At the end of the third song, Nikita could tell she was already in love just from the power of Gabriel's voice. He followed with a slower song that showcased his talent to its pain filled apex. The crowd swayed along with him, mesmerized.

"All we need is faith!" Gabriel sang soulfully. "Faith is all we need."

Gabriel opened his eyes as he wound down the song and looked directly at the table where Nikita and Claudette sat.

"I punish you with pleasure. And pleasure you with pain. I punish you with pleasure. And pleasure you with pain," he sang, repeating the words with deep meaning.

Nikita felt a little unnerved by his words, wondering if what he was saying directly alluded to what he was about to do to Claudette. It seemed fitting enough considering what they were sent to do to her. She looked back at Claudette's sweet face, beaming with excitement during the show and wished that she did not have to betray her. She was already too naively trusting. It was easy for Nikita to see how her husband was able to hide the fact that he was a very dangerous and wanted criminal that would likely meet his end at the end of their mission. Once Augustine was captured, his life would whittle down to mere hours until he was seated in the white room to be questioned further then subsequently cancelled. It was not known what would happen to Claudette after the mission was completed. It was already clear to Nikita that she would have to have someone placed immediately in the same place as her husband to take care of her. She was just not equipped to handle a large estate on her own. He sang through several more songs, enticing the crowd and giving them stage worthy antics to keep them enthralled. At the end of his performance, he finished with a song that floated between hopeful and cautionary. Nikita allowed herself to get caught up in the moment, singing right along with the crowd. There was a freedom that she felt as she swayed with the rest of audience that she had not felt in a very long time. A breeze came from somewhere in the room, mixing with the pounding of the drums, and the energy in the room, all became increasingly intoxicating. On stage, Gabriel moved and spun about like a mad man. At the end, the stage lights went down on his last words, leaving only a lingering synthesizer note.

Claudette screamed out with excitement. She turned to Nikita.

"Oh my God! He is amazing!"

Nikita nodded, trying to appear modest. She only half listened as Claudette gushed about the performance and how crazy it was. A moment later, a man came from backstage and drew Nikita's attention. Nikita quickly grabbed her small purse and Claudette and began following the man towards the back of the club.

"Where are we going?" asked Claudette.

"Backstage," said Nikita plainly.

"Really?" Claudette could not be contained any more. She was nearly jumping up and down. "Are we going to meet the band?"

"Probably," said Nikita as they made their way down the narrow red corridor heading for the rear dressing room. "I'm just going to pop in and tell him hello."

Claudette's voiceless expression told Nikita that she was more than a little thrilled about getting to meet Gabriel and his band. She clung to Nikita's hand as they approached the door. Nikita knocked a few times before the door opened. Inside, the room looked much like it did before when she last visited it, except there were less half naked women bobbing about. Nikita walked into the dressing room with Claudette trailing closely behind. She searched around the room, looking for Gabriel. She heard laughter from one corner of the room. Amid a rabble of arms and legs, hair and breasts lay Gabriel, eyes closed, head back against cushions, listening to music in his headphones. The women around him lay lazily over top his legs, eating strawberries and drinking champagne.

Great. This is just the kind of first impression she needs, Nikita thought smugly as she marched over to where Gabriel lay. She kicked his boot, ignoring the cross looks she received from the women. Gabriel opened his eyes slowly, coming to from the musical coma he had put himself in. He raised up on his elbows and stared up at Nikita.

"Hi!" said Nikita.

"Hey!" Gabriel looked like he was only barely recognizing who it was he was talking to.

"How ya been?"

Gabriel sat all the way up. He rudely pushed one girl laying on his legs off of him. She did not seem to mind the roughness except to look a little upset that he wanted her to move. He pulled his legs in so that he sat indian style. He took the headphones off and shook his head, trying to clear it from the haze he had been under moments before. He blinked hard several times. Beside him, Nikita could see an empty bottle of vodka lying among the folds of the blankets surrounding him. Nikita twisted her mouth in disappointment.

"I've been great," Gabriel said. "How about you? How are you? It's been a while."

"A while, yes."

"Yeah." His eyes shifted to something just behind her. "Your friend?"

Nikita looked over her shoulder and saw Claudette waiting just behind her. She was drawn in a little, like a mouse hiding in a corner. Nikita waved her over. Claudette cautiously approached, her eyes scanning over the women still lying about at Gabriel's feet. She finally looked at Gabriel and smiled nervously. Gabriel returned a pleasant smile.

"This is Claudette," Nikita introduced. "Claudette, Gabriel."

Gabriel rose to his feet and stepped over the women awkwardly. He steadied himself and stood in front of Claudette, his smile growing a little wider. He extended his hand to her which she shook quickly before returning her hands back to themselves in an anxious clutch.

"Very nice to meet you," said Gabriel.

"You were amazing," Claudette said almost too quietly.

"Well thank you. I appreciate that."

Gabriel continued to smile tenderly at her. He drew a step closer to her so that their hands nearly touched. Nikita moved back, giving them room, and feeling a little like a third wheel. The women on the floor waited for Gabriel to pay attention to them. One called his name. Nikita shot her a look that clearly told her to be quiet. Gabriel maintained his attention with Claudette, ignoring the women.

"How do you know Nikita?" he asked.

"She is my trainer," said Claudette.

"Really? She was mine a few months back. How far along are you with her?"

"Just started really."

"Just started? I would have thought you were already about midway through her program."

Claudette blushed and swayed shyly. "You're just saying that."

Nikita could not help rolling her eyes. She always hated the first meeting. Some of the worst lies were always told at the very beginning. At the very least, Gabriel did have being an amazing rocker on his side to give him the right amount of intrigue to spark interest. Whenever Michael had to drum up interest, he almost always had a corny joke or terrible goofy misinterpretation to help him to look both cute and clueless, which, Nikita figured, made him adorable in a way. When Gabriel smiled, it seemed easy and natural because it likely was. Whenever Michael attempted it, the smile looked a little off, like it didn't quite sit on his face the right way. Whenever he genuinely smiled, it was always hidden by his hands but revealed itself in his eyes. Gabriel moved around Claudette almost like a panther, his sleek body twisting towards her seductively. Nikita could tell Claudette was taken by him already. Their connection seemed instantaneous. He continued eye contact with her, ignoring the women around him even when they openly tried to gain his attention. He excused them from his area, offering a seat near him for Claudette to sit. She looked back at Nikita.

"You two get to know each other," said Nikita. "Don't mind me."

"Nonsense Nikita," said Claudette. "You haven't seen him in a while. You should catch up."

Nikita nodded and took a seat next to Claudette. She looked at Gabriel who smiled sweetly, pulling his legs to him and bending forward a little. He offered them champagne as he had done before. Nikita took her drink and sipped it leisurely. She was enjoying the ambience even though she was well aware that their sequence was long under way. Her job was to support whatever story Gabriel came up with and add color where needed. She could already tell that his seduction of Claudette would not take long. Just the idea of him being near her was sending her into cartwheels of excitement. As their conversation continued, Gabriel twisted a story that had Nikita being a hard nosed trainer that was a monster when it came to her program, but it worked and he had not veered from it since. Nikita made note that she would have to be a little cruel in order to live up to the expectation that Gabriel had set. Michael had used the same approach, but did not make her seem malicious, not in the same way that Gabriel was painting her. Michael, at the very least, made her appear determined rather than destructive. Nikita was beginning to wonder if Gabriel meant to make her out to be a gym gremlin.

"I'm not all *that* bad," Nikita tried to save herself. "Maybe you couldn't handle the program."

"It wasn't the program I couldn't handle," said Gabriel with mischief playing in his eyes. "And I eventually got used to Nikita's training. I'm sure I can handle her now."

Nikita caught his meaning as she looked at him. He smiled, knowing that she caught his meaning as well. Only Claudette seemed completely unaware.

"I doubt it," said Nikita.

"She's been really nice," said Claudette naively.

"Wait until she starts breaking you in. She's down right torturous, but in that oh so wonderful kind of way. She really gets results."

Nikita furrowed her brow, wondering what it was Gabriel was doing. He continued to smirk in that way that told her he was up to no good. He was speaking to Claudette, but somehow, it felt like he was talking to her as well, but with different meaning. Nikita put a hand on Claudette's shoulder.

"Don't listen to him. He's still upset about having to drop down to my beginner's course. It doesn't surprise me that he is trying to scare you."

"He doesn't scare me," said Claudette, tossing a shy glance at Gabriel.

"See, Nikita. She isn't scared of me," said Gabriel. "If I'm not mistaken, I think she actually kinda likes me."

Gabriel grinned and scooted a little closer to Claudette, sandwiching her between himself and Nikita. Claudette leaned in closer to Gabriel, closing the distance between them a bit more. Nikita took a long drink of her champagne. She looked out into the room, noting that many of the people that were in the room in the beginning, were missing. The band mates remained, but many of them passed out. Gabriel and Claudette spoke between themselves, sharing words and experiences. Gabriel reached to push a tuft of her hair back behind her ear. Nikita took another drink. He was smiling in such a way that made her nearly believe that he truly was becoming enamoured with the ditsy brunette. The evening was beginning to draw out long. She was starting to feel tired and a little annoyed. She looked down at her watch and quickly finished the last drops of her glass.

"I think we better get going," said Nikita, deciding to end the introduction and meeting portion of their evening. There was still the ride back to Claudette's house where she would no doubt talk the rest of the evening about Gabriel.

Claudette looked up at Nikita, her eyes saying that she was not really ready to leave just then. Nikita reminded her quickly that they had an early morning. Claudette nodded, and pulled herself up from the floor. Gabriel rose up with her, assisting her by holding her hands in his. Claudette started to say goodbye when Gabriel pulled her to him into an embrace. Nikita watched as Claudette froze in place a moment, surprised by Gabriel's body pressed against her. She then wrapped her hands about him, nearly clawing at him before slowly letting go. They pulled apart, leaving only their fingers touching. Claudette backed away, holding Gabriel in her stare as they left. Nikita waved and pulled Claudette out of the dressing room.

* * *

Chapter Seven

"Where have you been?" Walter looked at Birkoff over top his glasses as he hurried over to his station.

Birkoff settled himself in his seat, ignoring Walter a moment as he logged on. Above him, Operations' always wary eye surveyed the main floor. Walter carefully made his way over to Birkoff, pretending to be handing him something.

"You've been missing morning check in. What's going on?" asked Walter.

"Nothing," said Birkoff, but his eyes told something different.

"You better start shaping up or else," said Walter, nodding over towards Command.

He started back towards his station when Birkoff called back his attention.

"It's Gabriel and his band. I've been going to hear him play almost every night this week," Birkoff admitted.

"Gabriel? Isn't he on a mission with Nikita?"

"Yeah. Part of their cover is his band. The target likes musicians and he just happens to be freaking amazing. Walter..." Birkoff looked intense. "I have never felt the way his music makes me feel. It's like I'm on drugs or something. It's that powerful."

Walter looked at Birkoff as though he were talking gibberish. From the way the young man looked, he could tell he was fully into what he was saying. He put a hand on his shoulder.

"Is that why you've been missing check in? You've been hanging out with Gabriel?"

"No," said Birkoff. "But I have been hanging out with Terri from Surveillance. She's into the guy's music, too. She's been coming with me and we've been spending some pretty heavy times together."

Walter smiled, relaxing a bit now that he was assured that Birkoff was not developing some sort of perverse fixation with one of Section's Valentine Operatives. It was not unlikely for any of them to become attached to someone, especially someone like Gabriel or Nikita. He could not count how many women in Section developed an unhealthy attraction towards Michael, some of which, going nearly insane with the idea of forming a relationship with him. There certainly were not many operatives like Michael or Gabriel for that matter, one that could command attention just by their sheer presence. He recalled the days when he used to be able to turn a few heads his way, albeit never quite as quickly as Michael or Gabriel did. The two of them standing in the same room together appeared like a nova bomb going off killing panting hearts all across Section. Even Madeline was not immune to their power. Thankfully, Michael was away in Serbia and Gabriel was settled in a mission to keep from further disrupting the routine of Section.

"Just make sure you get in here on time next time," warned Walter. "You don't want Operations or Madeline to start asking questions why you're out so late."

"I know," said Birkoff. "You gotta hear this guy sing, though. It's amazing. I can't even describe it."

"I'm sure it's pretty world breaking," said Walter, not at all interested. "Just don't miss check in, okay. And Birkoff, zip yourself up before you come in."

Birkoff looked down at himself and saw that he had left his zipper down on his pants. He quickly zipped his pants and returned to his workstation, his ears flaming red. Walter chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"Kids..."

* * *

Nikita pulled the casserole she had been laboring for hours on out of the oven. The heat from the oven greeted her and forced her back a little as she reached in. The oven gloves she wore did very little to shield her fingers from the scorching heat. She quickly grabbed the baking dish and set it, threw it on top of the stove and closed the oven door. Her fingers burned a little from the heat. Nikita ran them under some cold water from her sink and turned back towards her creation. Sweat had begun to bead on her forehead making her have to wipe it with the dish towel she had used in substitute of a second oven mit. The casserole looked a little burned around the edges, not like the way she had seen it when Michael had made it for her. The cheese was only supposed to be slightly brown and bubbling on the surface, not caked to the sides of the pan and blackening. Nikita was sure she had followed the recipe to the tee, but the dish still looked like it had been through war and lost. She hoped that for all its ugliness that it would still taste the same as the way Michael made it, save the scorched parts of it. She found a spoon and dug into the very center of the dish. She pulled out a spoonful and tasted it. Aside from the incredibly hot bite she took, the taste of it was mildly familiar to Michael's dish. She rationed it needed just a touch more salt to make it just about right.

A knock came to her door. Nikita looked up and saw in the security monitor a man standing at her door with long brown hair and wearing a very large grey sweater. By the look of him, Nikita knew it was not Michael, not even in the least bit. He would never wear any color aside from black. The man looked up and winked at the camera he knew was there. Nikita opened her door.

"Gabriel, what are you doing here?"

Gabriel smiled and walked towards Nikita, attempting to enter. She held him back with a stern hand.

"Answer the question."

Gabriel smiled. "Can't a friend visit with another friend?"

"Only if that friend is really a friend," said Nikita.

Gabriel faked being stabbed in the heart. He stumbled backward, feigning death.

"You kill me inside," he said.

Nikita smirked before moving away from the door to allow Gabriel inside. He strode in, his legs taking full strides despite the confinement of his pants. He wore black ripped jeans this time, paired with an oversized grey wool sweater, and black Adidas high tops only partially laced up. His hair was left long over his shoulders cascading in waves of deep brown, gold, and auburn. The neon lights placed about the apartment made strange colors in his already hypnotic eyes making him devastating to look at. Nikita quickly caught her breath and moved back to the stove to fiddle a little more with her dish.

"How is it going with Claudette? Are you guys hitting it off okay?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Gabriel. He leaned over the bar top of her sink and began playing with the edge of her wet dish towel. "She is into me and all, but I still can't get to her, I think."

"What do you mean, you can't get to her? She's head over for you. I hear about you all the time now." Nikita reached for the sea salt in her spice cabinet and began shaking it into the casserole.

"I know, but she still seems a little distant. Like, she wants me, but doesn't quite want to admit it. She hesitates. Has she said anything more to you? I mean, you guys do talk, right?"

"Yeah, we talk," said Nikita. She pushed up the sleeves of her own well worn sweatshirt and stirred in the salt. "She says a lot about you, mostly about how you look, your music. She's really into you."

"Hmmm," said Gabriel.

Nikita looked back at him and noticed he was far away in thought. She put the spoon on a tray next to the stove and turned to face Gabriel. She folded her arms and crossed her ankles as she leaned against the still warm stove and oven.

"So, what's the problem?"

Gabriel looked truly perplexed. "I'm not sure."

"Have you slept with her yet?"

"No. Of course not."

"It's nearly been a week now. What are you waiting for?"

Gabriel's expression surprised Nikita a little. He actually looked disgusted at the idea of moving quickly towards the bedroom. Usually with Michael, he would have not only made it to the bedroom by now, but would have already had the woman begging him to marry her by the end of the week.

"These things happen over time, Nikita. What do I look like jumping into bed with her so fast? What do you take me for?"

"I don't take you for anything," said Nikita. "I just thought you would have progressed a bit further than this by now."

Gabriel righted himself and crossed over to the other side of the island. He leaned against the sink, positioning his hands in front of him and crossing his ankles.

"Sorry to disappoint. Contrary to popular belief, I still believe in proper courtship. Besides, if I move too quickly with her, she will run. I know it. It's just going to take a little more time."

"Time is not exactly a commodity we can afford right now. Eventually, her husband will learn of his plans being systematically dismantled and start to move his funds into accounts we can't trace. If he does that, we would have failed our side of the mission. It will look bad on us if that happens, and who knows what Section will do because of it."

"Don't worry about that," said Gabriel. "I'll figure this thing out. I just gotta figure out a way to get inside her head."

"Have you tried buying her flowers?"

"Yes."

"Dinner and dancing?"

"We've done that twice already."

"Reading her poetry?"

"I'm working my way through every french romanticism poet known to man."

"You're a musician. How about writing her a song? Women really love that."

"I did, but...In my personal opinion, it sucks ass and I'm sure if I think that, she will too. At this point, I don't even know if sleeping with her is going to change things. I could offer my dick on a platter and she would probably look at it and ask if the platter was made of silver or was it plated."

Nikita could not help but chuckle a little, even to his unfortunate expense. Gabriel smiled genuinely.

"I'm so glad my turmoil is comical to you."

"I don't mean to laugh," Nikita apologized.

"It's okay. I enjoy your laughter."

Nikita stopped a moment, catching what Gabriel said. She turned back to the stove, hiding the flush of pink that rose up in her cheeks. She tasted the casserole and agreed it did taste a little closer to the way Michael had it. She turned and saw Gabriel looking longingly at the dish. She made a gesture inviting him to taste. He nodded emphatically and reached to grab a spoon from the freshly washed pile lying on a dish towel by the sink. Nikita dug out a spoonful and turned to give it to Gabriel. He, instead, opened his mouth so that she could feed it to him. His lips closed in around the spoon in such a way that was not meant to be seductive, but managed to be anyway. He made a moaning sound in his approval of the bite that made Nikita have to draw in a steady breath. His little sound made her think of other sounds he would make someplace else away from the kitchen.

"It's good," he said amid his bite. "Could use some pepper, though."

"Really? I put pepper in it already," said Nikita, slightly offended.

"Put some more."

Nikita looked at her dish again, wondering if she actually did remember to put pepper in it. Despite her feelings, she reached for the black pepper and added it to the dish. She stirred it again and tasted it. Admittedly, adding pepper did make it taste much closer to the way Michael had made it, but it was still missing something. Nikita tried to remember what else could add to it to get it like Michael's.

"I know she can be a bit of a spoiled brat, but you should be able to work around that. Whatever you do, you gotta do it quickly. Section isn't going to give us too much more time on this," Nikita said, wanting to remain on subject. She pulled down a plate. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

Nikita pulled down a second plate from the cabinet and began preparing two servings. She handed Gabriel his plate and leaned against the counter with her own plate. She watched as Gabriel shoveled the chicken and broccoli casserole into his mouth voraciously. His continued moans of enjoyment caused Nikita to have to fight her thoughts. She focused her attention on her own plate, finishing quickly and putting her plate in the sink. She crossed fast over to the couch and sat down. She needed to put some distance between herself and Gabriel. Being so near to him in the kitchen was stirring feelings she did not want stirred. Gabriel continued to eat, licking his fingers and drinking the punch she set out for him. She put her feet up on the coffee table and crossed her ankles. Gabriel rinsed his dish and dried his hands on the dish towel Nikita had used for an oven mit. Nikita cut on the television with the remote and began channel surfing. Gabriel walked slowly into the living room, his hands behind his back. Nikita wistfully looked up at him before returning to the tv screen.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" Nikita asked.

"Meeting Claudette later on tonight. She wants to hang out at the club." Gabriel sat down next to Nikita and turned himself towards her, pulling a knee up on the cushion. He leaned against the cushions and stared dreamily at her.

"Really? What time?" Nikita tried to ignore Gabriel's stare, but it was hard to ignore such soft eyes.

"I think seven."

Nikita looked down at her watch. "It's almost seven now."

"Maybe it was eight."

"Either way, you better get going,"

Gabriel reached and touched the hair that fell against the cushions behind her. She could feel her heart beginning to speed up a little, noticing him watching her and slowly licking his lips. After a few minutes more, Nikita got up quickly from the couch and walked over towards the kitchen again. She got a glass and poured some water in it from the faucet. Gabriel sat on the couch, looking like he had been ripped out of a dream.

"You probably should get going now. Traffic can be murder out that way," said Nikita.

Gabriel thought for a moment, collecting himself, before rising slowly. He brushed back his hair away from his face and sighed heavily.

"I guess you're right. I mean, wouldn't want to keep the little lass waiting, would we." There was a slight edge to his tone as he walked towards the door.

"Nope," said Nikita, eager to get him out of her apartment and away from her before something terrible happened.

She opened the front door. Gabriel looked at it, his expression reading that he did not really want to go. He looked at Nikita, asking with his eyes to stay longer. Nikita flicked her eyes towards the hall, then smiled her encouragement.

"You wouldn't happen to have dessert would you?" he asked.

"No. But I bet Claudette has plenty of desserts to choose from at her place."

"Yeah," Gabriel sighed, then shuffled reluctantly out the door.

Nikita hung in between the door frame and the hall watching Gabriel walk slowly down the hall.

"See you tomorrow night at the club?" asked Gabriel, backing away from Nikita's door.

"Maybe," said Nikita. "If I do come, it'll be with Claudette. But by now, you shouldn't really need me to come with her. She has backstage access."

"True, but would you come anyway? I always perform better when I see you in the crowd."

"Liar. You'd do just as well if I were there or not."

"Not true. When you're there, it makes me feel better when I see your smiling face."

Nikita could not help blushing a bit. She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"See. I feel better already."

Nikita waved him off, still laughing. "Get outta here."

Gabriel smiled his little boy smile. He spun playfully and jogged the rest of the way down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Nikita pulled herself back into her apartment. She started to close the door when she heard a quick knock. Confused, she opened it and found her face captured by delicate hands and lips pressed softly to hers. The kiss broke away quickly leaving Nikita gasping. She looked up at Gabriel, her eyes alit with both surprise and confusion.

"What was that for?"

"Now I can die a happy man," said Gabriel.

He smiled again, a lovely radiant grin that would have floored any woman, and turned quickly back down the hall. Nikita stood dumbfounded in her open door crowded with perplexing feelings that stirred within her. She closed her door, looking back at it several times to try and understand what had just happened. She then looked at the dish she had tried to prepare from Michael's recipe. She sat down heavily on her couch and stared into nothing and wondered what in the hell was going on.

* * *

Chapter Eight.

Madeline climbed the staircase into Command and paused a moment while Operations finished his call with George. He seemed a little agitated, but controlled himself enough to sound pleasant. After he finished the call, he let out an audible sigh before turning to gesture Madeline to enter. She stepped forward, her hands behind her back and her expression calm and sincere.

"I hope you are coming to give me good news," said Operations.

"It's news," said Madeline evenly.

"Well?" Operations was more than a little impatient.

"Michael has finished up with the third weapons storage facility. He should be done within the week."

"He's moving fast isn't he," said Operations. He moved over to his panel and checked the status of another mission presently in the field.

"Yes. Very. One would almost think that he is rushing to return home."

"What would he be hurrying back for?" Operations were distracted by the monitors.

"Could be that he is rushing through his mission objective to help Nikita with hers," Madeline suggested calmly, but knew it would likely spark an interest in Operations.

"Nikita is doing fine with her mission. Things are going to plan, right?"

"Yes. She says that Gabriel is spending time with Claudette, even has gotten her to sleep with him. It won't be long now before she trusts him enough to give him access to the account list."

"Do we know why it's taking so long?" Operations finally faced Madeline, leveling his steel grey eyes on her.

"Gabriel has somewhat slower methods. He feels that Claudette is too skittish a target and pushing her towards actions before she is ready will make her run."

Operations scoffed at the idea. "I'm beginning to think we sent the wrong one in. If we had sent Michael, he would already have the accounts by now."

"I think this target would have been too delicate for Michael. Gabriel is the better choice for her. He will wrap things up in time," said Madeline. She took a step closer to Operations, maintaining her gaze with him. "Besides, he says Nikita has been a great help with moving things along a little quicker."

"Nikita," said Operations, thinking of the name with some deeper meaning. "How is her relationship with Gabriel?"

"Developing. Things are still in their early stages. I predict they will form a deeper bond by the end of this mission."

"They'll need to form it before Michael returns."

"I think they will."

Operations smiled his cheshire grin. "Excellent. Keep me posted."

Madeline nodded and turned to leave.

* * *

Nikita awoke to a loud knocking on her door. She glanced at the clock on her bedside and saw it read a quarter past three in the morning. She rubbed her face then struggled out of the tangle of her sheets. The knocking continued with an equally loud voice shouting from the other side of the door. Nikita padded to the front door, and looked briefly at the security video. She could only see someone leaning against the door, his fists pounding relentlessly. Nikita unlocked the bolt lock but left the chain in place as she opened her door.

"What the hell?"

Gabriel's blue eyes were wide and expressive. He looked like he was completely freaked out.

"Nikita, please! You have to let me in. Please!"

"Gabriel? What is going on? Is someone after you?"

"No. I mean..." Gabriel looked confused. He looked about him as if searching, then turned back to Nikita. "No there's no one after me. Just please, can I come in?"

Nikita considered Gabriel's state. She closed the door to take down the chain lock. On the other side, Gabriel interpreted the closed door as a rejection. He began crying, pounding on the door, and begging to be let in. Nikita opened the door just as he was about to beat down the door again. He half fell into the apartment, stumbling over his own feet. He was dressed like he had just come from a show in a pair of leather pants and an electric blue motorcycle jacket. His boots were untied and she could see he was not wearing any socks or shirt under the jacket. He smelled like he had been drinking heavily which accounted for his disheveled appearance. Nikita closed her door and led him over to the couch. He landed heavily, his head lolling back against the cushions. For the moment, Nikita stared down at the heap that was Gabriel and tried to think of what to do. Gabriel moaned in his drunken misery. He closed his eyes and looked like he might start crying again.

"What the hell happened?" Nikita finally asked.

"I don't know," Gabriel answered. "I don't know! I don't know!"

"Gabriel!" Nikita leaned over Gabriel and grabbed his face so that he looked at her. "Tell me what happened. How did you get like this?"

"I fucked up! I fucked it all up!"

"Fucked up what, Gabriel? Talk to me."

Gabriel attempted to sit up, but could not right himself. He flopped back against the cushions again, his head rolling about. Nikita sat down beside him. He sank down into her lap and curled himself there. Nikita was caught off guard at first, finding Gabriel curled up in her lap like a child. She slowly began to brush his hair away from his face, then rub his forehead with comforting strokes.

"What happened?" Nikita said softly.

"She told me she loved me. She said it while we were in bed and I freaked out. I didn't know what to do. I knew I was supposed to say it back, but I couldn't. I just couldn't say the words to her. Instead, I jumped out of bed and ran out of there as fast as I could. I just left her there."

"Left her where?"

"In the hotel room."

"You mean to tell me you left the target in some hotel room somewhere?"

"I didn't know what to do. I had to get out of there."

Nikita shook her head, knowing that the repercussions of something like this could be detrimental to the progress of their mission. It could very well set them back days, if not weeks, from their final objective.

"You have to go back," said Nikita resolutely.

"I can't," said Gabriel, almost in tears.

"You have to." Nikita turned Gabriel's face to her so that he knew her meaning entirely. "If you don't, the mission will be a failure. If it fails, we fail, and I'm not about to get killed because you couldn't fake it for one more night to get the accounts. If you had only said it back, she would have likely gotten you the accounts. All you had to do was fake it for one more night."

"Nikita, I couldn't tell her that I loved her. I can't tell someone that if it's not real."

"You're a damn Valentine Op. Nothing about you is real. What makes saying those words any different than anything else you've told her?"

Nikita could already see in his eyes that it was much different than Michael. He had not died all the way while in Section. They had not stolen his soul the way they had Michael's. He could say the words and not mean them. Michael could stealthily use the word love and be so far removed from its meaning that it could be said just like any other word. The only words Michael did not use as much were words like need and want because they alluded to a kind of void or deficiency in him. He did not care about love. He cared about what he needed, and at Section, he never needed much. For Gabriel, however, he did care about love. Section had not crushed his spirit. It was the reason why he made the music that he did. His music was how he managed to stay alive. It would only make sense to not be able to express those kinds of feelings if they weren't there. He was used as a Valentine, but his heart had not been broken yet. He, like her, still believed in the levity of words and was careful about using them.

"I couldn't do it, Nikita. Not to her. I couldn't say it to her," Gabriel whispered.

Nikita caressed his face, running her fingers through his silken hair. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of her hands in his hair. A tear ran down the side of his face. Nikita gently brushed away the tear and looked at him. He began to calm down. His naked chest rose softly as sleep pulled him under. Nikita allowed him to lay in her lap a few minutes more, admiring his angelic face, no longer stretched in frantic chaos. She traced the soft, almost womanly curves of his face with her finger. He seemed small and fragile in her arms. Not like the proud peacock that he was on stage. The power that he exuded in front of the audience was gone leaving a beautiful and tender being that was forced to be used in an unnatural manner. His home was not in someone's bedroom feeding them lies to gain information. He belonged on a stage with his music telling truth in song and inspiring change. Section had stolen this lovely soul and was hard at work trying to tear off his wings. She could see they had already done some damage to him having forced him into relationships he did not believe in and made him fake emotions he did not feel. He was an honest man, and could not be made to lie about something as important to him as the meaning of love. He could not say it to just anyone.

When he was sound asleep, Nikita slowly pulled herself from and rose from the couch. She tucked a pillow under his head and found a blanket to throw over top him. She found her phone and called Claudette. After a few rings, a very frantic and worried voice answered the phone.

"Claudette. Where are you?" asked Nikita.

"I'm at home," Claudette answered in a hushed voice. "Why are you calling?"

"Just checking up on you. I think something happened to Gabriel."

"Really? Um, um, is he okay?" Claudette barely spoke above a whisper.

"Yeah. He'll be fine, I think."

"Are you with him?"

"I was," Nikita lied. "He sort of came over a little freaked out, but he will be okay."

Claudette giggled, her voice sounding light like chimes. "I don't think he expected me to tell him I loved him. It just kinda came out."

"You love him?"

"Yeah," Claudette giggled again. "I think I do, I mean, I think about him all the time. I listen to his music. I even kept his underwear."

Nikita bristled at the thought of Claudette hanging on to a pair of Gabriel's underwear. From what she could see of him, it surprised her that he even wore underwear.

"Well then, I guess that's it right. You love him, I'm sure he loves you."

"How do you know? Did he say something to you?"

"He didn't have to. All he talks about is you. I know he thinks about you all the time."

"Really? Why doesn't he say he loves me back then? Why did he run when I told him I loved him?"

"You know how musicians are. They are expressive in their music, but have a hard time saying the words out right. I'm sure he's probably told you he loved you, you just have to read between the lines of his songs." Nikita could barely believe her own words. "Believe me, he loves you."

An audible sigh could be heard over the phone. Nikita paused, wondering if she should say more.

"I guess," said Claudette. "Just wish I could hear him say it."

"I know. But don't worry about the words. He tells you he loves you with his actions, how he treats you, and I'm sure he's said it when you guys make love, am I right?"

"Oh my god!" Claudette sounded like she was remembering the act right then. "He's so amazing. He's the best lover I've ever had. I have to be careful not to call out his name when I'm with my husband."

Nikita laughed softly. Gabriel stirred a little on the couch.

"What are you going to do about your husband? Are you going to leave him?"

"Leave Auggie?" The notion seemed foreign to Claudette.

"Yes. You love Gabriel, right? There isn't anything really left in your marriage to stay for. Why not?"

"I love Gabriel and all, but..."

"But what? What's stopping you? You know Gabriel isn't going to want to keep sharing you. He wants you for himself."

"He said that?"

"Yes."

"I don't know how," said Claudette, her mind working now. "Auggie takes care of me. We would need money to go away together."

"I'm sure you can work around that. Aren't you listed as a secondary owner on a few of his accounts?"

"I think so, but he never lets me see those accounts."

"Can you get access to them?"

"I think so. They are in his bank book in his office."

"You could get access to those accounts and get money. By the time he figures out what's going on, you and Gabriel could be long gone."

"We could live out our dreams like we talked about," said Claudette, planning.

"Exactly. All you would need to do is get into his bank account information to get the money out and put it into a separate account. One that only you and Gabriel open."

"We wouldn't need much. Just about $50,000 to start. Maybe a little more."

"You should meet back up with Gabriel and the two of you talk this out. I'm sure he will listen."

Claudette made a nervous noise before returning to the phone.

"Everything okay?" asked Nikita.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. I thought I heard Auggie get up. He is still asleep."

"Okay."

"Is he there with you?"

"No. He left hours ago."

"Probably went home or to his studio...I'll call him tomorrow when Auggie goes to work."

"That's a good idea." Nikita massaged the space between her eyes at the ridge of her nose.

"Thanks for checking up on me, Nikita. You're a real good friend."

"Yup," was all Nikita could say to that.

"Goodnight."

"Night"

Nikita hung up the phone and let out a loud sigh. She felt terrible having lied so much to Claudette, but she knew she had to in order to keep the mission intact. With Gabriel running away like he did, it left her feeling confused and unsure which was something neither of them wanted her feeling at that point. She needed to be fully invested in Gabriel's subterfuge so much so that she would be willing to leave her husband for him. Normally, Nikita would not have to go through such great lengths to convince a target of notions of love. Michael practically did most, if not all, the heavy lifting. She barely even had to be in the picture much save the few times when she was used to orchestrate the meetings. With Gabriel, she had to do way more talking and interacting with the target than what she was comfortable with.

She did not mind the talks with Claudette. It was refreshing to hear about the antics and cute memories being cultivated by someone other than Michael. In other missions, she hated hearing about how warm and precious he was with them, how sweet and noble he was. Even worse, she hated hearing about the details of their love making. It made her remember their moment together on the barge which now seemed like a lifetime ago. He had been a man on a mission to divide and conquer, and once he finally won his conquest, he moved on to other adventures leaving her wondering if any of it actually happened. Had she dreamed his careful touch, imagined his lips, pretended the words that he spoke to her in hushed voices? Had she fashioned the memory of his taste and the scent of his body pressed against her? Had she known him at all, or did she trick herself into believing in a dream? When they were on other missions together posing as a couple, she could tell his touch from when he was acting as her partner from his real touch. His real touch was always much more possessive and filled with brimming emotion that he would not share. His chest would lift slightly and his gaze would fall heavily on her, so heavy it felt oppressive. She could tell he wanted to dominate her and make her submit to him and when she wouldn't, he pressed more towards her.

There was something about the way he held her that night, the way he both took her forcefully and allowed himself to be taken that made her desire him all the more. He made her submit to him, all the while also releasing himself to her in a way that expressed his a way, she finally understood what so many other women knew about Michael, and yet he had given more of himself in that one night than he had to any other woman Section paired him with. Still, she noticed the tug of war within him that he played out with her. It seemed to her that he wanted to both own her and let her go, turning her emotions on and off at will so that she remained in perpetual confusion with him. She could tell he enjoyed the struggle and often toyed with her out of spite. It did not matter to him if she did not like the games he played any more. It was how he got off. The juggle between care and cruelty was what brought a smile to his otherwise lifeless face. It was likely why he hardly smiled to begin with. He was so used to cruelty that he confused the two when dealing with Nikita's torn and broken heart. He truly was ruthless in everything he did, including the way he loved her. Nikita was unsure now if she even wanted his kind of love anymore. It hurt like a bullet. It burned deep and scarred. Even its memory continued to hold pain she would never forget. If she continued to allow herself to be wounded by it, she knew it would eventually kill her.

* * *

Chapter Nine

Nikita pulled her coat around her a little tighter. The wind outside picked up blowing icily against her bare legs. Even in her thigh high boots, she could feel the chill of winter crawling up her legs and up her back through her full length powder blue coat. She checked her watch and noted it was nearly 9pm already and she was still far back in the line. She wondered why she even had to wait this time. Normally she could simply saunter up to the front and get let in. Tonight, she supposed it was not a night that she was scheduled to appear at The Pit so her name would not be on the list of special guests. She would have to wait and pay like everyone else.

"Nikita! Nikita!"

Nikita turned and saw Birkoff several people back from where she stood. He was waving emphatically at her and smiling. Next to him were recruit operatives Terri and Lisa, also looking quite cold in their unseasonable outfits. Despite knowing that there would be some discourse, Nikita waved them up to where she was. Birkoff grabbed Terri and Lisa and hurried up to her. The people behind Nikita grumbled their disapproval as Birkoff and his entourage squeezed into line.

"What are you doing here tonight?" asked Birkoff, ignoring the not so nice remarks of the people he cut in front of.

"Here to see Gabriel, of course."

"Yeah, us too. Isn't he amazing?" Birkoff did not hide his excitement. "I've been here every night he's played. I even bought his CD. You know he has one out now."

"I didn't know that," said Nikita, a little impressed. "Think you could get me a copy?"

"You're friends with him, right," said Birkoff. "Why don't you just ask him for one the next time you guys get together?"

Nikita nodded. "I'll do that."

The line moved up a bit. The bouncers up front were making a huge ordeal out of thoroughly patting everyone down before allowing them into the building. Nikita wondered if she had remembered to take off her thigh holster. She felt about her leg quickly and noted that she had. She leaned over to Birkoff.

"You aren't carrying anything are you?"

"No. Why?"

"How about your dates? Are they?" Nikita nodded over to Terri and Lisa.

Birkoff looked back at the chatting girls and shook his head no.

"Good. Wouldn't want to have to stay out here in the cold forever, you know." Nikita patted Birkoff on the back. "It's real good to see you out having fun. You are having fun, right?"

"Yeah. Walter thinks maybe a little bit too much fun. I've missed check in a few times this week," Birkoff admitted.

"Well, I'm sure you've corrected that, right. There's no need for me to say anything about that."

"No," said Birkoff. "Walter has had to cover for me a few times, but I don't think he will keep doing it."

"If I were him, I wouldn't," said Nikita plainly. "You know better, Birkoff. Make sure you get you and your friends back in before curfew."

"I got'cha, Nikita."

The line moved more until finally Nikita, Birkoff, Terri, and Lisa were at the door surrendering their IDs to the bouncer. Nikita was barely patted down before she was allowed in. She saluted Birkoff as he was still being thoroughly checked somewhat roughly at the door.

"See ya inside!"

Nikita made her way through the crowded entryway and into the main part of the club. She stopped by the bar and grabbed a drink before sifting through the area looking for a place to sit close to the stage. It seemed there were plenty of people with the same idea, crowding around tables and sharing conversation with drinks in hand. The vibe inside the club was not its usual. There was a subdued and calm feeling within. More tables and chairs were set about where the dance floor and candles were lit on them, giving the room a very warm and surreal ambience. On stage, only two microphones and two acoustic guitars waited for the players to arrive. Across the room, at a table directly in front of the stage, Nikita saw Claudette sitting, sipping on a fruity drink. Nikita made her way over to her and greeted her with a quick kiss to the cheek. Claudette beamed as she cleared away a place for Nikita to sit on one of the bar stools. She was dressed in all black, appearing like an Emo doll with her curly hair left an absolute riot over her head, dark makeup around her eyes, and black nail polish. Nikita wondered who had told her this look was appropriate as it accentuated all the wrong features of her face rather than enhance it.

She recalled a time when she had made herself up in much the same fashion during a mission. Michael took one look at her and demanded she take the makeup off. He all but licked his thumb and tried to rub the black lipstick off her lips before she went inside the club. She never shied away from makeup, even when it was heavily applied. It made her feel like she was wearing a mask and did not have to be concerned about whether or not she could pretend to be someone else. The makeup sometimes made it easier to get into character. Michael, on the other hand, preferred her face to be naked, or if not, then with only a little bit of makeup. He had told her that her natural beauty was enough and did not need the extra accessories. As much as she wanted to rail against him, she knew he was right. Whenever she did not pile on the mascara, she was able to gain much more from her targets than if she came in with a full on glamour look. Looking at Claudette, sitting in her terrible rendition of a disaffected youth, she could tell no one had told her that she looked ridiculous. Michael would have told her in his usual so blunt it hurt manner, but she wasn't involved with Michael. She was there for Gabriel, and from what Nikita could deduce, he didn't care much at all what she looked like so long as she gave him the information he needed to get. Like many of the other Valentine Operatives she ran into over the years, Gabriel looked sweet on the outside, but was likely all nasty filling once bitten into.

Before long, the lights transitioned and put a spotlight on stage. Gabriel and his band took their positions and began the first song acoustically. Nikita realized that this performance was not going to be like the others. Instead of force feeding the drums and electric guitar riffs to the audience, churning them into a wild tornado of movement and emotion, he would serenade them with the silken style of his voice. He had on a full outfit this time, complete with a turquoise and brown infinity scarf lying over top a plain black t-shirt and ripped black jeans. He pulled his hair back into a sleek man bun held in place with a grey scrunchie. Nikita enjoyed the way he tended to mix female and male accessories making them truly genderless. He could be considered genderless as well, having both very male and female features. He was almost too beautiful to believe.

"I believe in nothing, not the earth and not the stars...I believe in nothing, not the day and not the dark," Gabriel sang smoothly as he strummed his guitar. "I believe in nothing...but the beating of our hearts."

Nikita nudged Claudette, hoping she caught the meaning, however vague it seemed. Claudette continued to smile, already transfixed. Gabriel continued, slowly working his spell over the crowd, using his voice to mesmerize. The acoustic renditions of his songs held a deeper meaning than when he screamed them over throbbing synthesizer and pounding drums. Nikita noticed his words and saw the struggle between wanting to live and wanting to die, but not die for just any reason. In his words, he spoke of living life without regrets and experiencing lust and love in much the same way as one would death and dying. He wanted the end to world turmoil and would stand to fight it if necessary even if it meant all else would be lost. He challenged ideas of right and wrong, making one reconsider what was truth and what was imagination. By the time he ended his fifth song, Nikita no longer cared about what Claudette was feeling or if she was receiving any of the subliminal messaging within the songs. She felt like Gabriel was speaking directly to her, asking her to truly re-evaluate her life and decide if it was all worth the energies she had put forth. Was she truly fighting for a heart that could one day belong to her, or was she simply kidding herself? In his next song, his words raked across her with such honesty and terror that she found herself nearly panting by the end of it. She felt as though he had known and seen every moment she had with Michael and penned it into song so that he could hurl it back into her face.

"Honest to God... I'll break your heart...Tear you to pieces and rip you apart..."

Nikita could not look at Gabriel anymore. Tears were welling up in her eyes. Her body suddenly began to feel cold. She wanted to leave.

"Honest to God... I'll break your heart...Tear you to pieces and rip you apart..."

Nikita looked at her hands and found them trembling. She looked around the room wondering if anyone else could see her distress. Claudette continued to sway, headless of Nikita's unraveling emotions.

"One night of the hunter...One day I will get revenge...One night to remember...One day it'll all just end, oh.."

Nikita fidgeted with her skirt, then with the buttons on her jacket. She was so anxious she could barely sit still, yet something made her stay put in her seat despite her need to run out of the club. To her mercy, Gabriel ended the song and moved on to another song, one that he had a friend come and join him on stage. The friend was a black female, shapely and beautiful with her hair fashioned in twisting braids that fell down the length of her back. She wore dark, torn jeans, boots, and a loose fit blouse that made her look both airy and grounded. She smiled and hugged Gabriel before sitting down on a stool provided for her.

Gabriel introduced the woman as Kelly.

The crowd applauded.

Gabriel moved from his stool to a piano located towards the back of the stage. He began playing the intro chords and sang the first verse into the microphone. Kelly picked up the second verse, her voice melding perfectly with Gabriel's. The two performed the duet, singing a song about desire and love needed between two people who were uncertain of their love for one another. The one thing that was clear was that the lovers needed each other and more than anything, wanted the other to stay with them.

Nikita could not hold back her tears any further. The quiet torture of Gabriel and Kelly's voice had so traumatized her that she fought herself not to simply begin bawling right there at the table. She saw images of Michael holding her close to him, his eyes falling gently on her. She remembered his touch, the way he reached back for her hand to pull her forward, or touched her face to let her know that he was with her. He was tough on her, but maybe she needed him to be. He never wanted to see her hurt or see her being abused. Whenever she was in trouble, he was always the first person to come to her rescue, sometimes the only person. He saved her from countless dangers, and always offered his help even when she felt it wasn't necessary. He was always there, in one form or another. Even in his supposed distance, he was always right there, looking over her shoulder to make sure she was okay.

"I want you to stay," Gabriel sang, drawing out the last word as far as space and time could carry it.

Claudette looked over at Nikita and noticed her tears.

"Nikita? Are you alright?" she asked, her tone very concerned.

Nikita nodded. She reached for a napkin on the table and dabbed her eyes dry. Gabriel finished the song and thanked Kelly for assisting. He then stood and bowed to the audience, ending his set. Claudette took a moment to check Nikita again. Nikita waved her off.

"I'm okay. Go! Go have fun. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" said Claudette even though her body language told Nikita that she really wanted to race to the dressing rooms to meet up with Gabriel.

"Totally. It was just an amazing performance. I'm okay. Really."

Claudette nodded, gave Nikita a wry smile, before hurrying back towards the back to meet with Gabriel.

Nikita watched her for a moment thinking how awful it was going to be for her once this was all over. It would probably crush her gentle soul and make her hate the idea of love for a long while. In her own experience, she had been killed completely by the realization that whatever kind of love she had between herself and Michael was gone. There was only their joint loyalty to Section. It continued to be the glue that held them together for as long as they were together. Had it been any other situation, some other time and universe, she would have walked away from Michael a long time ago. She would have never allowed him to get as close as he did, nor would she have welcomed his twisted idea of friendship. As soon as those crystal blue eyes turned to ice on her, she would have run away screaming and never turned back.

Section had placed them together with some sort of cruel intentions to make them into one entity, and then, when they needed them to separate, ripped them apart just as mercilessly as they had joined them. Michael had been in her thoughts at every waking hour when she first began with Section. He was the first thing she saw in the morning and the last face she saw at night before she went to bed. His voice had brought about both elation and dread. His scent lured her towards depths of depravity that even she did not think she would dip. Even when she had the opportunity to escape it all, to run away with another operative to freedom, Section had sent Michael to guide her back. With a Judas Kiss, he had locked her tight within Section's grasp, held her prisoner to its loyalty, and bound her heart to a man that did not have one of his own. Now she sat at a bar table, tearing to pieces a napkin that could very well represent her own soul. Gabriel had said it best in his song. Michael had broken her heart just as surely as if he promised he would. Then he tore her apart limb from limb until there was nothing left of her. He had done it all without one smile, without one look of regret or remorse. He had done it not by his own will, but because Section told him to. Because of that, Nikita wondered, how far would he go to follow Section's orders? Will she one day find herself on a mission turned sour, ask for help, only to find Michael's cold stare waiting to tell her no? He had abandoned his beloved wife because Section told him to. He had said that he deeply loved Simone, and yet, he did not make any moves to rescue her. How much less would he do for her, a woman he could not even admit he cared for?

* * *

Chapter Ten

Madeline looked up to see Operations coming into her office. His expression was stern, not quite unhappy, but not quite satisfied either. He only barely noticed Gabriel standing in the office, awaiting further instruction. Operations gave Gabriel a raking once over and smirked at his choice of clothing.

"I didn't think you knew what a suit looked like," said Operations regarding the single breast deep blue-green suit and black satin tie. Gabriel wore his hair in a long braid down his back. His beard had grown out a bit more, but was kept carefully trimmed so that it did not appear unruly.

"I can occasionally transform myself into a more civilized being. I'm not always as wild and untamed as my attire might suggest," said Gabriel, his tone gentle and reserved.

"Yes, well..." Operations left the thought unfinished. He turned to Madeline. "Michael is on his way back from Serbia. He believes he has located all the weapons caches that Barrington was using to sell to other countries. Now all there is left to gain is the account list." Operations turned to Gabriel. "Are we any closer to getting it?"

Gabriel nodded. "I'll have it tonight."

"You're sure she will give you access to her husband's database?" asked Operations.

"She is so sprung she would write me into her will if she even knew what one was. She is highly interested in leaving her husband tonight and going away with me."

"And Nikita?" Madeline looked soberly at Gabriel. "Is she aware that you will be getting the files tonight?"

"No. I really don't think she needs to know," said Gabriel. "The mission is all but buttoned up. Claudette is willing to do whatever I ask her to keep me with her. Nikita's role is no longer necessary."

"Normally we leave all operatives in place until the end of the mission," said Operations. "It's highly unusual to remove an operative from play. Even if she is no longer of any use in her primary role, she can still be of use as a secondary just in case your plan fails with Claudette."

"It won't fail," said Gabriel. He turned to Operations, staring him directly in his eyes. "Besides, I think it's best that Nikita withdraws from the mission before she jeopardizes it."

"What are you saying?" asked Operations. "Has Nikita said or done something to put the mission at risk?"

"She hasn't said anything," said Gabriel. "It's what I fear she might do should she learn the ending to this tragic story we are building. I feel Nikita is too sensitive to go through with the final stage of the mission. She has grown quite close with Claudette. I fear she may try and stop the final sequence."

Madeline nodded, understanding Gabriel's positioning. She folded her hands and rested her chin on them. She let out a slight sigh, then turned to her monitors. She plucked a few keys on her keyboard and reviewed the last mission status report from Nikita.

"She will just have to deal with it," Operations was saying in his normal impatient tone. "It doesn't make sense to pull her off right now. We're right at the end of things."

"I disagree," said Madeline finally. "Gabriel has seen Nikita and Claudette's relationship first hand and knows about the two and their connection to one another. Nikita would never allow anything to harm anyone she deems an innocent. She could very well put the mission at risk fighting for what she believes to be a worthy cause. We've seen this before with Nikita. Her behavior in such matters still remains consistent. If she behaves as predicted, she could ruin the entire mission. I think it would be best to pull her. It's the only security we have to make sure things go as planned."

Operations looked from Madeline to Gabriel. He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

"Fine. We will pull Nikita out. Gabriel, you finish with Claudette. When Michael gets in, tell him I want to see him in my office."

Operations turned and left just as quickly as he entered.

"Is there anything more you want from me, Madeline?" Gabriel asked, looking softly at Madeline as she sat at her desk.

Madeline pushed up a small, interested grin. She pressed a few keystrokes on her keyboard, exiting the program she was using. She turned towards Gabriel.

"There is one last thing," she said. "You're nearing your end here at Section. Have you thought about my proposal?"

"I've considered it."

"And? What is your decision?"

Gabriel bit his lip and made a noise that crossed between agony in making a decision and confusion from still having not made up his mind. He searched the ceiling as if the answer was there before he leveled his gaze back down to where Madeline awaited patiently for his response.

"It is a very good possibility," Gabriel began. "There is certainly a lot to consider."

"But..."

"But...There is that *one* thing that I just can't get past and as long as it's here, I can't be."

Madeline nodded. "I understand."

Gabriel shrugged. "I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm sure you have enough angels on your roster. There wouldn't be any need for me."

"On the contrary," said Madeline as she stood up. She walked over to where Gabriel stood and took his arm into hers. "I could always use just one more angel on my shoulder."

Gabriel laughed as he walked with Madeline towards her door.

"You didn't know? I'm not really an angel," said Gabriel. "I'm the devil."

Madeline mused a little. "Well I'm sure there's room for him, too."

Nikita pushed past the doorman standing in front of the club doors. At first, the large muscular bruiser was about to object, but after a serious don't-mess-with-me look from Nikita, he backed down. Nikita moved fast through the maze of tables, heading straight for the stage where Gabriel and his band mates were leisurely talking and plucking out chords on their instruments. Nikita marched straight up to the stage and grabbed Gabriel by the sparse fabric of his drapey orange and white tank top. His eyes went wide with surprise as Nikita nearly threw him backward on the floor. Were she not still hanging on to his shirt, he would have toppled over.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Nikita snarled, drawing his face close to hers.

"Whoa! Nikita! What's going on?" asked Gabriel, looking innocent and unaware.

"You know exactly what's going on," Nikita accused. "I wanna know why."

Gabriel looked back at his very surprised and perplexed band mates. He waved them off the stage.

"Give me like five minutes," Gabriel studied Nikita's very intense demeanor. "More like half an hour."

The band members mumbled their displeasure as they left the stage. Nikita let Gabriel go, but still held him strong within her stare. She paced about him, feeling like a raging lion eyeballing its prey. Gabriel straightened himself before regarding Nikita.

"We should probably talk," said Gabriel finally.

"Ya think," was Nikita's flippant answer.

"Come with me to the back."

Nikita followed Gabriel through the red hall leading to the dressing room. Thankfully, the club was empty save a few waitresses cleaning glasses and preparing for another night of entertainment. Gabriel pushed open the dressing room door and checked inside to make sure they would be the only ones in there. He opened the door for Nikita to walk through, then closed it, rubbing his head. Nikita paced a bit more before turning to Gabriel, crossing her arms in expectation.

"Talk."

Gabriel paced a little himself, trying to find the right words. He looked at Nikita, then turned put his hands on his hips and hung his head, defeated.

"I had to have you pulled off because I didn't want you to mess things up on the mission. I felt you had gotten too close."

Nikita furrowed her brow in confusion. "Too close? What do you mean you thought I had gotten too close? I was *supposed* to get close to her. That's how this works. We get close enough to get their trust."

Gabriel sighed heavily. "I just couldn't have you around anymore, Nikita. I know it's hard to understand, but...I just couldn't have you there."

"Gabriel. I don't understand," said Nikita. Her tone was a little less harsh now, bleeding more into concern. "I'm here to help you."

"I didn't need your help."

"Whether you think you did or you didn't need me, I still helped you get back on track with Claudette after you ran out on her and left her in some hotel room." Nikita drew a little closer. "I saved your ass that night. I got her to trust in you by telling her a bunch of lies. The least you could have done was tell her you loved her so that she would stop asking me if you did."

"I couldn't tell her that I loved her."

"Why not?" Nikita pressed.

"Because I don't love her," said Gabriel. He turned to face Nikita. "I love you."

"What?" Nikita was caught off guard completely.

Gabriel stared fully at Nikita, his eyes expressing passion and emotion that she had only seen in movies. She took a step back, trying to gain some distance from the power of his gaze. However, it was of little use as he was closing in fast towards her, his gaze unbroken in his pursuit.

"I never meant for this to happen. It just did," Gabriel was saying. "Every day we spent together, talking and laughing...I was taken by you before I even knew I was. I couldn't help it."

"Gabriel," Nikita began, but found she was at a loss.

Gabriel continued to draw closer, slowly, cautiously.

"Why do you think I kept coming over to your place? Calling you each night? Hanging around your desk?"

Nikita thought back over the previous few days of their mission. Gabriel had been purposefully lingering around her, asking her questions about herself more than talking about the mission. He was over her apartment more often than her neighbor Carla was. They talked late into the morning about nearly anything and everything under the sun. She did not know why she never saw it. Why she never knew why Gabriel stared at her so long whenever they were together. She was so involved in her own tortured thoughts of Michael that she never even guessed that Gabriel was falling in love with her.

"It's not by happenstance that you were selected to work with me," said Gabriel. "I requested you. I wanted to work with you, to get to know you. What I discovered was that you were even more beautiful than your profile said you were. You have a soul, Nikita. That's like a rare diamond. You don't find many operatives with one. But you have one."

Gabriel stood so close to her now, she could feel his breath on her skin. Once more, his cologne grabbed at her and demanded she pull him closer. She resisted, unsure as to what to do with herself. She stared back into Gabriel's eyes and found herself growing weak within them. She reached her hands up to try and block herself from him, but only resulted in him capturing her fingertips with his hands.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Nikita. Every song I hear, I write, I sing...I told you, when I see your smiling face in the audience, it makes me want to perform better. I don't sing to them. I sing to you."

"Gabriel..."

"I can't think anymore. You're in my head, constantly. I think you, I drink you, I taste you. I *breathe you*." Gabriel pushed Nikita back against the wall, He pressed his body to hers and held her hands captive.

"I could have wrapped things up with Claudette well before. I strung it out on purpose. I didn't want to end our moments together."

Nikita drew in a breath hoping to steady herself. She could not resist the stirring within her beginning to grow as she felt his heat radiating from him. His lips were so very close to her own, she fought the urge to bite at them. Her entire body began to hum. Latent fantasies of him began pouring back into her thoughts. She had stowed them far back into her thoughts, unwilling to even acknowledge their existence for threat that they would somehow be known to Michael even with him thousands of miles away. She felt in some cosmic revelation, he would know that she was betraying her devotion to him by lusting for another man. It was not that she was completely unaware of his interests. He had been hinting at it from the moment they sat to speak. She did not know how far exactly he had gone with his fantasies of her. She concluded he had gone just about as far as she had gone with hers, only she had stopped the dreams at only a physical curiosity for him. She had not attached feelings and emotions to her wanderings. Not like he had. The way that he moved against her now made her fully aware that he had taken his fantasies into places she dared not go with him.

"Gabriel, I didn't know that..." Nikita could not fully articulate what she wanted to say. It seemed the words were constantly getting stuck.

"Please, Nikita," Gabriel begged. "Let me have you tonight. He has you for as long as he wants you. Let me love you tonight."

He pressed his lips to hers and held her there. The heat of his kiss lit a flame within Nikita. She found herself pushing back towards him, hungrily charging after his tongue with her own. He let go of a delicious moan, exciting electricity throughout her body. Their hands locked in a power struggle grip. His words had not quite filtered through yet as she pressed forward. He pushed her back against the wall once more, using his body to reinforce his desire. He let go of her hands and held her face to his, refusing to let her free from him. Nikita's mind reeled a little, trying hard to make sense of the dizzying feeling of Gabriel locked within her arms. She had not noticed herself holding him close to her, grasping at him desperately. Her thoughts trailed back to his words just before he kissed her. He had said that she belonged to him for as long as he wanted her. How could he know that Michael was the one that still had her heart? She told him they were through having thrown away the entire idea of being together for the sake of maintaining a stable working relationship. Yet, she knew he probably saw it in her eyes when they discussed him. He probably could tell by the care she took in not bringing up his name whenever they were together. It must have broken him apart inside knowing that the woman he longed for was still pining for someone else, someone he knew did not feel the same way. They were all in a tragic whirlwind cyclone of lust and feelings that could not be expressed fully. Gabriel had his music and Michael had his work to hide behind, but what did Nikita have?

Gabriel pulled away, catching his breath a bit and looking deeply into Nikita's eyes. He was panting a little. He began taking off his shirt when Nikita stopped him. He looked with confusion, wondering why she was making him pause. Nikita took off her coat and began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. Gabriel looked on with hungry eyes. Nikita began backing him up towards his cushion filled corner. Once there, she pushed him down to his knees. He looked up at her, appearing in complete obedience to her every whim. She smirked, enjoying this semblance of mastery over him, and finding herself wishing it were Michael she was doing this to. She dared not tell him that despite all his declaration to her, she still wished him to be Michael. This beautiful creature that was so freely giving himself to her was not what her heart truly desired. She allowed him to undress her, pulling away each garment as if peeling away layers of secrets. She allowed his kisses to trail up and down her body, to circle about her pink and erect nipples and glide down towards her navel. Her own hands took freedoms that she knew had only practiced once before with Michael, caressing parts of Gabriel that she imagined were parts of Michael. Gabriel's sounds were not like the ones Michael made. He had a more roughened grunt like a beast awakening versus Gabriel's lighter, softer moans. His body was not as heavy as Michael's as he pressed into her. Except for the feeling of him inside her, she barely noticed him atop her at all. Michael, in contrast, pressed down densely filling up every portion of her body so much that she could barely breathe beneath him. He aimed to overtake her completely, whereas with Gabriel, she was free to maneuver herself however she felt comfortable to accommodate him. He moved with her, following her moves in peaceful resistance as their bodies coursed about each other in circular and wave patterns. Gabriel was soft and breathy, whispering beautiful sounds in her ear making her feel heady as if tasting fine champagne. Michael had been rough and grunting, moaning in agony at times and others simply saying nothing as his face squeezed tight with pent up emotions he refused to let go of. He was like a well aged whiskey, quick to get her drunk but harsh to the taste for someone not used to such bold flavors. As she lay within Gabriel's arms, smelling the sweet scent of his hair mixing with her own, she wondered if what she truly wanted was something that she could never gain. Although Gabriel was with her then, he would not be there for long. Once the mission was over, he would leave and she would likely never see him again. His beauty would only remain with her in her memory and the songs he sang. He would live on like so many others as a ghost of lovers' past. All that she would be left with was whatever meager life she could carve out from what Section offered her. No matter how she wanted to escape, or how she begged to be released, she would forever be trapped by Section in one form or other. Even if she managed to free herself of Section and never return to its stoney walls, she would still be trapped there so long as he was there. As long as Michael remained with Section, so would she.

When she finally left Gabriel's embrace, she walked away feeling just as conflicted and lost as she had since the beginning of their mission. Gabriel's love, although romantic and radiant, still could not put out the every flaming torch she still carried for the one man that she was determined to hate. He was soon to return and sit back down on his grand throne of misery and pain, ready to torture her heart once more with gleeful pleasure. He was a cruel master of hearts. He wielded his power with an iron fist to go right along with the iron mask. Nikita wondered was she ready to fight for him again? Was she ready to endure yet another scar to add to the many she gained from trying to reach him? These were questions she could not know and was much too exhausted to try. At the moment, she could at least enjoy the aftermath of having been loved so thoroughly by a well-designed and practiced lover. With him being what he was, she knew not to fully trust his words.

They were all liars, including herself.

They told people what they wanted them to hear to gain something that they wanted. She was unsure what it was that Gabriel could have wanted from her for him to tell her that he loved her. Maybe the words were his honesty pouring forward. Maybe he truly did fall for the illusion he had of her within his own mind. Whatever the case being, Nikita cherished the night and could let go of the minor infraction of being released from the mission. It was likely best she was released. She could not take another shocked and betrayed look from another woman who just realized they had been taken in by a beautiful lie.

* * *

The Serbia team was back.

Walter saw them trudge in looking like they had been through hell. From what he had heard of their reports, they basically *had* been through hell. Their targets, although simple enough, were not without opposition. They began with fifteen men, but only nine returned, including Michael. As usual, Michael turned in his equipment, relaying back all that was assigned to him so that his inventory matched what was supposed to be returned. He barely spoke two words more aside from his normal greeting and his whispered thanks before leaving to de-brief. As normal, female eyes followed his swagger up to Command. Walter figured things were beginning to return to normal now that the mission was near completion. All there was left was to gain the account files from Barrington's computer, which Walter assumed was supposed to happen any day now. There was talk about Gabriel remaining with Section, that Madeline was working on a deal to have him permanently transferred there. Walter was sure the other operatives of the gentle gender would be happy to learn of his transfer. He was also sure Birkoff would be elated to have Gabriel working with them seeing as how he was already his number one fan. Maybe even Nikita would not object to having him part of their little dysfunctional family. She seemed to smile more and more each day she interacted with him. He had to admit, it was nice to see her with a different expression other than her normal confused and indignant look. Gabriel had somehow brought out the life in her eyes that had begun to go missing. Walter could only suspect this came from being close with him. The only person he knew would not be so happy to have Gabriel around more was Michael.

Someone in Surveillance said that the two men had some sort of altercation in the workout room shortly before Michael left for Serbia. No one really knew what the argument was about, or even if they were actually arguing, but the general consensus was that they did not like each other. To Walter, it did not matter what the fight was about. The fact remained there was one too many roosters in the hen house.

Above him, Michael stood in front of Operations giving him his detailed report. He could see Madeline appear from the shadows like a phantom. The three of them looked down to the main floor like three Olympian gods viewing the earth from their sacred mount. Walter's attention was caught then by Nikita's familiar long gait coming into work. She was wearing shades, dressed in an interesting combination of black leather and cotton, and sporting a t-shirt with the name of Gabriel's band written in red across the hair was left long and straight falling like a sheet over her back. She went directly to her station and set down her things. He watched her as she set up her work area to prepare for a long day of surveillance and profiles. Michael finished his debrief and made his way back down to the main floor. He disappeared down the side corridor heading towards the lounge. Walter watched Nikita and saw she did not make even a subtle twitch towards his direction. Instead, she focused on the screen in front of her. Moments later, Michael re-emerged with a cup of coffee and strolled to his office. Once more, Nikita did not react. He did not look in her direction. Walter looked at the scene playing in front of him with both confusion and suspicion. Something in him wanted to ask questions, but he knew he should stay put. If he learned anything about Section, it was that keeping one's nose out of unauthorized places was the best way to stay alive. He had already experienced what it was like to get involved in any business that contained Michael and Nikita's relationship. He certainly did not want to travel down that path again.

Nikita knocked on the door before opening it and peeking in her head.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked.

Michael stood watching the recruits training. It was the evening advanced class being taught by Master Hiro. Michael stood watching their drills, his expression the same as always, blank. Nikita stepped inside the office, not waiting for Michael to give consent.

"Take a seat," he instructed.

Nikita sat down. She looked at Michael's back, wondering what it was she had done now to warrant his attention so soon before her shift was to end. She hoped that he would not hold her long. It was the last night that Gabriel was to perform and she really did not want to miss it. Birkoff had already left out, eager to make it to the club before all the good seats were taken. Nikita could only hope that she could make it there before Gabriel began his set. For the moment, Michael remained silent, still staring out at the recruits. Nikita was beginning to grow impatient. Finally, Michael turned on his heels to face Nikita. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Fine," said Nikita warily.

"I understand you were removed from the mission. Did something go wrong?"

"No. Nothing," Nikita answered innocently.

"Why were you removed, then?"

Michael's gaze was weighted. Nikita made herself remain as still as possible as not to give any indication of what the real reason had been for her to be asked to drop out. She could not tell if Michael already knew the truth and was only waiting on her to tell him, or he truly did not know. She hated his blank wall.

"Gabriel had already gained the target's trust. There was no need for my influence any further. It only made sense that I bow out."

"The mission profile states that you stay until the material is secured. Was the material secured before you left?"

"No. Gabriel said he would get it 's probably working on that right now."

"Is that what he told you?" Michael stepped forward, keeping his eyes steady on Nikita.

Nikita nodded. "Yes. Madeline explained it as well."

"I told you to be careful around him, Nikita. I said you shouldn't trust him. He can hurt you."

Nikita closed her eyes, familiar with Michael's for-your-own-good speeches. She was tired of hearing them, and even more frustrated at the fact that there was nothing that Gabriel had not done that he would not have also done given the same circumstance. Maybe Gabriel went about completing the assignment in a longer, more time consuming manner than Michael would have, but he had explained that he had only done it because he could no longer fake feelings for someone when his true emotions were directed towards her. Gabriel was not like Michael where he could stash away himself and separate himself so much that he ceased to really exist at all. Gabriel lived in his skin and when something felt alien to him, he did not ignore it, but railed vehemently against it. He would not accept telling every lie to gain. His soul would not allow it.

"Gabriel is responsible for his part of the mission. I have done mine. There is nothing more that can be done. It's all up to him now," said Nikita.

"And if he failed?"

"Then the failure would be on his head, not mine."

"You're wrong," said Michael. He circled her chair, speaking evenly and calmly the same as he did for any of his interrogations. "The mission falls on both of your heads. If any one of you fails to see it to its completion then it will be the both of you that take the blame. There is no his part, or your part. You are a team. If one fails, both fail."

Nikita turned to look at Michael as he circled around her.

"Why are you so certain that he will fail? Madeline trusts him. Why shouldn't I?"

"Because he is dangerous, Nikita. He is a manipulator and will do whatever he has to get what he wants."

Nikita smirked and crossed her arms. "You're one to talk. You're just like him."

This seemed to hit heavily within Michael. He stopped and stood straight, staring into nothing. Nikita stared at his back, not really knowing what to expect. She knew he would not be so beastial as to turn and slap her across the face, but she also knew she could not rule that out. He had slapped her a few times before, albeit for the reason of bringing her back to reality, but who was to say he did not deem this instance a moment of insanity? Instead, he lowered his head to his chest before turning slowly towards her. She could see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, something she was not expecting at all.

"Maybe because I am like him that I know what I'm saying."

Nikita swallowed hard. She felt bad for having said anything. She should have simply kept her mouth shut and nodded in agreement with him. Afterall, that was what he really wanted from her. Total and unquestioned agreement. He would have her follow him to the ends of the earth so long as she never questioned the reason for their journey. How could she trust anything that he told her when it seemed every other word from his lips was a lie, or some manipulation used to get her to do or act in some other way. He had been back home from his mission less than 24 hours and was already attempting to manipulate her again. Nikita pressed her lips in, feeling anger beginning to re-shape her thoughts.

"Well," Nikita began, needing to end the meeting now before it became too late for her to even bother with making it to the club. "The mission is all but done, and as far as I'm concerned, my part in it is finished. I can't do anything more about it. I've already been taken off the assignment."

"You could find out the real reason why you were taken off," said Michael, turning back to Nikita.

"I already know the reason why." Nikita stood to her feet and started for the door.

"Why?"

"Because, Michael. The man is in love."

"With the target?"

"No," said Nikita. Her thoughts went back to the night before in the club. "Not with the target. With someone else."

"Who?" Michael drew closer.

Nikita looked up at Michael and smiled warmly. She opened the door, pausing a moment just before stepping out into the hall.

"Doesn't matter who. All that matters is that he cared enough to say what it was that he was feeling. He could admit it openly, which is more than what I can say for some *other* people we may know."

Nikita started to walk away.

"Nikita. We're not done," said Michael somewhat roughly.

Nikita turned to Michael. "Yes. We are."

* * *

Chapter Eleven

By the time Nikita made her way to the club, she was both frustrated and tired from fighting through the crowd in the rain. After leaving Section, she made a mad rush home to get changed and eat something quickly before heading back out. The roads were slick, making traffic stall on already busy roads. Parking was near impossible causing Nikita to have to find a space several blocks from the venue. Once she got inside, she could already hear Gabriel's voice rising in chaotic fury over the crowd. She cursed Michael under her breath for making her late with his probing questions. He had no real excuse to ask her questions about her mission and why she was pulled from it. None of it was any of his concern. He only asked to be nosey. Even if he went to Madeline to ask her why, the truth remained with Nikita. Gabriel had not wanted Nikita to remain on the mission because he could not trust his own heart to perform the final details of his own objective. He was finding it hard to continue telling someone else that he loved them when it was Nikita he wanted to say the words to. He had revealed to her as they lay on the cushions in the dressing rooms that it was her face that he imagined whenever he made love to Claudette. There was even a moment where he nearly called out her name during his climax, having wanted more than anything for Claudette to be her. When they were together, he was completely hers in every sense of the word. She could sense him fully within her and knew the love he told her was real. He was not pretending anything with her. She could see it in his eyes his emotions billowing out within the waves of his moans. His touch was so lovely, his kiss, so captivating, and his voice so irresistible that she dared not risk shattering him by telling him of her own confusion. At that moment, she did not know what she wanted. She went home feeling tormented by her choice. When she awoke, she was still tortured. It wasn't until she sat down with Michael that her decision was finally made. She no longer wanted to live under the scrutiny of a madman's cold gaze. She would much rather be free and soar on wings held up by music and fly alongside an equally beautiful soul. She had said that Gabriel and Michael were alike, but she was wrong. They were nothing alike, except in profession. Gabriel was someone that could understand feelings and express them freely without trepidation or reserve. He said his thoughts and did not hide them behind riddles and obscure hints. He expressed himself boldly and without apology. When he said he loved, he loved and meant it. He told her he loved her and, unlike Michael, he did not take it back.

Gabriel was on stage with his band, spinning in a cyclone of sound. The crowd jumped up and down in response to the earth quaking beat of the music. The energy in the room was electric. Nikita peeled out of her coat and made her way to the bar. The bartender barely paid attention to her as she placed her drink order. She had to repeat her order several times over the music before he finally got the order correct. Nikita was only mildly frustrated, taking her first sip at the nearly too strong mixed drink. Gabriel's screams reverberated against the walls, sending daggers into Nikita. She could not help but remember their night together and the sounds he made then. The lights sprayed out over the masses. Gabriel killed them all with the rake of his guitar. Nikita decided to move further into the crowd, drawing closer towards the stage. She did not intend for Gabriel to notice her there, but she did want to be closer to him. Despite what she would tell anyone else, she was quickly becoming a fan.

The drums introduced another song. Gabriel had shed the white coat he was wearing revealing a loose fitting black tank top with a white arrow emblazoned on the back pointing up. His white skinny jeans were dotted with paint that had been stained from some point of his earlier performance. He chased about the stage from one end to the other, belting out insane notes. Nikita scanned the crowd and saw Birkoff and his two lady friends completely immersed in the music. Across from them, she saw the familiar brown curls of Claudette seated directly in front of the stage. She was at a table alone, drinking on yet another fruity drink. For some reason, Nikita felt a little awkward approaching her now. She was not certain what it was that Gabriel had said to her to explain her sudden absence. She felt it better to not be seen. Nikita fell back further into the darkness, being careful to stay well out of Claudette's immediate gaze, but in line enough to see her. The show continued as normal. Nikita relaxed into the songs, closing her eyes to transport her to that perfect place where Gabriel's voice desired to take them all. In the midst of her trance, the mood changed with the music. Gabriel's voice suddenly became haunting.

"I thought I could organize freedom...How American of me...This is who I am...You figured it out, didn't you.."

Nikita opened her eyes and found herself staring directly into Gabriel's eyes.

"You could smell it...So you left on my own ...To complete the mission...Now leave it all behind...I'm going hunting...I'm the hunter...I'm the hunter...I'm the hunter..."

Nikita could feel the breath coming out of her faster.

"You just didn't know me..." Gabriel repeated in a semi-whisper.

The song ended. The audience clapped. Nikita felt her mouth go drier than she had ever felt it before. There was something truly dark about his words. They somehow echoed back to what Michael was trying to tell her in his office. Her eyes began searching the room, looking for something, but she was not sure what it was that she was looking for. There was a clue in his song. He had said something in his music that he knew no one else would catch, only her. Somehow, he knew what Michael had said to her, and he was confirming. She did not know him, not truly, and she was only now going to discover him truthfully.

"This next song is for a very special friend in the audience, tonight. Cheers," said Gabriel as he held up his drink.

Nikita tracked his gaze and saw that he was looking at Claudette. He finished his drink and began playing on his acoustic guitar. He half sat on the stool set in front of the microphone. He began singing soberly, his words staying at a low, comforting tone, holding the words in a deceptive embrace.

"To buy the truth and sell a lie. The last mistake before you die. So don't forget to breathe tonight. Tonight's the last, so say goodbye...The secret is out...The secret is out..." Gabriel sang.

Nikita noticed a waitress carrying a tray with a drink and a black rose on it. She approached Claudette's table and sat down the drink and the rose.

"The Secret is out...The secret is out..Goodbye...Goodbye...Goodbye..." Gabriel sang.

Nikita watched as Claudette nodded her thank you and picked up the drink. Nikita suddenly felt herself moving. She pushed past one person, than another, trying in earnest to reach Claudette before she took her first sip. She pressed forward but could not quite pull through the crush of bodies crowding around the stage. Claudette took a sip of the drink, then another longer draw on the straw. Nikita screamed, but her words were drowned out by Gabriel's farewell.

"Goodbye...*Goodbye*...*Goodbye*"

Claudette shook her head, beginning to sway a little.

"Claudette!" Nikita screamed, trying hard to reach her.

Claudette grabbed her head with both hands. She bent forward, her hands moving down to her chest. Nikita pushed through the last bodies crowding around Claudette. Gabriel continued to sing, his words now coming out harsh and grating. He was staring at Claudette, watching her choke. Nikita rushed to Claudette and held her.

"Claudette! Can you hear me? Claudette!"

Claudette continued to choke, her coughs now coming out rapidly and unending. Her body began to convulse. Nikita screamed for someone to help, but no one was paying attention. Suddenly, Claudette's body went limp. Her brown eyes rolled to the back of her head. Nikita stared in horror at the lifeless body now resting in her arms. She turned her gaze up towards the stage and saw Gabriel staring at them.

"Goodbye..."

* * *

Nikita scrubbed hard at the counter tops, wiping away dirt that was no longer there. She was quite certain that she had scrubbed away the varnish that was there and was likely stripping the surface, but she didn't care. She had to do something with her hands. She had tried working out, but found cleaning much more therapeutic. The smell of chemicals and seeing things change gave her a sense of control in a place in her mind that felt so completely out of control. Her meeting with Madeline, although brief, had made her feel sick to her stomach and dirty beyond cleansing. She was granted some days off to "settle herself". The mission, afterall, had been an emotional roller coaster. She could not be expected to return fully to her duties unaffected. She was advised to take some time to center herself again. Nikita took the advice, happy to be rid of Section if not for just a few days. Even though she did not especially like Claudette, she found no reason in the world that would warrant what was done to her. She just couldn't understand it. There was nothing in Claudette's profile that would suggest there would be any kind of threat to Section. She was murdered in cold blood because Section felt it neater to tie all loose ends. They had left her husband, Augustine, alive, viewing his vast knowledge of weapons and contacts much more valuable than the life of his wife. It was rumored that Augustine might have even orchestrated the murder after finding out about her affair. He did not want to bother with a divorce when it was so much easier to just have her killed.

Nikita bristled at the thought. Augustine could not be inconvenienced with the rigors of a divorce trial. He would not be deterred from his own ambitions to be hassled by lawyers demanding he split his assets with the young twenty-six year old. Why should he, when he could easily get another one just like her and probably younger? Claudette did not deserve to be eliminated like a stray dog being put down. The way it was done was what frightened Nikita even more. Gabriel had to have known that it was going to happen. He was a part of it. His song told exactly what it was that he was about to do. He signaled the sequence with the song and ushered the deadly drink to her lips all the while hypnotizing her with his voice. He had been hunting all along, equipped with a dangerous smile and killer stare. He was like Michael, a great white cruising stealthily through the waters aiming for his target. When it was least expected, he struck with a paralyzing bite that bloodied the waters. There would be nothing left of her once he was done, only the memory of what she once was. He would swim away with pieces of her between his jagged razor blade teeth.

There was still a burning question within her that she did not quite get answered. If Claudette's death was already in the profile, why was it that she was not told about it? Why was she purposefully kept in the dark about that last part of the mission? If that was kept from her, what other parts of the mission had they kept her from as well? Was Gabriel's seduction of her also part of the mission?

Nikita was ripped from her thoughts by the sound of a knock on her door. She went to the door without paying much attention to the security camera. She opened it and stood back a step. Gabriel stood dressed in a flannel black and blue shirt over top a pair of Levi jeans and Doc Martin boots. His long hair was in another man bun, just not pulled so neatly back from his face. His beard had come in fully now, making him look a little like a mountain man.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to give you these," said Gabriel. He produced from behind him a bag of seedless grapes. "And...to apologize...Can I come in?"

Nikita paused for a moment, assessing Gabriel before taking the bag from him. She stepped aside and allowed him into her apartment. He jammed his hands into his pockets and stood just inside the entryway, not really venturing further. Nikita took the grapes and put them inside the fruit box of her refrigerator. They stood a moment more in silence, each gauging the other before determining their next action.

"Well, first," Gabriel began, his tone quiet and soft. "I wanted to thank you for your help on the mission. You were great."

Nikita smirked and rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms and took a stance. Gabriel understood and proceeded cautiously.

"For what it's worth, Nikita, I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Is that why you had me pulled off?"

"Yes...mostly."

"Did you know Section was going to kill her?"

"Yes."

"You knew right from the beginning, didn't you."

"It was part of the mission parameter that had been classified. It was why you did not see all of the profile. We felt it necessary to keep that part from you."

Nikita could hear Michael's voice coming through Gabriel. Even the look in his eyes reminded her of him. She shuddered.

"Because you thought I might try and stop you from doing it if I knew that's what you were going to do to her."

"It was in your profile," said Gabriel plainly.

"Oh," said Nikita, understanding and realizing now the full scope of the mission "So you were studying me too."

"I had to know what information I could trust you with and what I could not," Gabriel answered "I had to be sure that you would come across the right way to lure her to me."

"Did I meet your expectation?" Nikita's tone was sharp now, and dripping with menace.

"Perfectly," Gabriel answered, ignoring her. "Your performance was better than I could have hoped for. You made it easy for me to deceive her."

"You could have finished this mission a long time ago," said Nikita. She leaned against the counter, no longer able to trust her legs through the answers she was about to dive for next. "Why did you drag it out? She was already willing to give you everything."

"I had to give Michael time to complete his side of the mission. If I finished too early, we would lose Barrington. The affair kept him distracted enough for him not to pay attention to what was going on with his business deals."

"What about what you told me?" Nikita tried to keep her voice steady.

Gabriel looked down, thinking of how to handle his answer.

"Was that part of the mission parameter, too? Was deceiving me part of the profile?"

"No," said Gabriel softly. He regarded her pained expression and took a cautious step forward. "I didn't tell you those things to deceive you. And at the time, I thought I believed it."

Nikita felt like she had been kicked in the gut, hard. It was not as devastating as the one Michael had landed when he had pretended to have deeper feelings for her when he seduced her in her living room. Yet, the feeling was still there, just as sour as it was then.

"You seduced me..."

"C'mon Nikita," Gabriel said, relaxing his position a little. He drew closer to her, even daring to touch her arm. "It wasn't like you weren't trying to seduce me, too. We both knew what you were trying to do."

Nikita looked at Gabriel, a bit horrified at his implication.

"I did no such thing. I was never trying to seduce you,"

"Yes you were. With the way you looked at me, the way you smelled, those tight little outfits you would wear around me. You must've studied my profile well. You knew exactly what I would like."

Gabriel cruised his fingertips along the outside of her arm. His eyes tracked lazily over her form.

"I've had to practice tremendous restraint with you. More than I've had to with any woman. For the life of me I can't understand why Michael wouldn't want you...Or why you would want him...When you could have me."

Nikita turned slowly to face Gabriel. She gazed tenderly into his eyes then pulled him close into a kiss. She felt his hands grip her back, holding onto her as she kissed him passionately. She slowly pulled away, leaving him breathing heavily and dazed.

"I can have you," said Nikita, her voice just above a whisper.

"Yes," Gabriel whispered.

"Pity," said Nikita. "Because I don't want you."

"What?" Gabriel's expression became confusion mixed with a bit of shock.

"How could I when the only reason why you came for me to begin with was because you thought Michael and I were in a relationship together?" Nikita backed away from Gabriel's arms. "You had no intentions towards me until you started hearing the rumors. Well, I've heard rumors, too. Rumors of you blaming Michael for the death of your fiance'. How you vowed revenge on him. You really should be careful of surveillance. They can pick up a lot of things, particularly facial movements when speaking."

Gabriel chuckled deeply to himself. He backed up, folding his arms to himself.

"You can read lips," he deduced.

"I can read lips."

"What can I say?" Gabriel smiled, his grin no longer carrying its innocence. "Guess you caught me red-handed."

"You really are a despicable person," Nikita sneered.

"Aren't we all?"

"No, not all of them might be cold, but he, at the very least, acts with a degree of honor and nobility you obviously lack. He would have never done what you did to that girl, or to me."

Gabriel took a moment to look enlightened. His exaggerated expression made Nikita feel somewhat unnerved. He then began to laugh a wicked little laugh.

"You think what Michael does is noble?" Gabriel laughed again. "Honey, you're more delusional than I thought! In the history of everything that I've ever known or heard about Michael, noble has never once come up in the conversation. Ruthless, yes. Tyrannical, sure. But never noble."

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think that you do."

"And I suppose you do?" Gabriel stepped close to Nikita again, this time with challenge in his eyes. "Tell me something, Nikita. And be honest. How much *do* you know about your dearest Michael, eh? What's his favorite food? What does he like to drink? Better yet, where does he lay his head at night? Since you know him so well. Where does he call home? It's certainly not with you." Gabriel circled around her, drawing close to her ear. "Think about it, Nikita. I'm not the one that lied to you. I didn't have to. You were already lying to yourself. I just let you go on believing yourself."

Nikita felt a cold shudder travel over her body. She did not want to admit the truth, even though it was staring and laughing at her in her face. Tears were welling up in her eyes. Her hands felt him close to her as he crossed back around her, heading for the door.

"It was great working with you, Nikita," said Gabriel. He opened the door. "Maybe one day we will cross paths again. Who knows. If negotiations go well with Madeline, I might even join the family." He smiled. "Au revoir ma cherie."

He closed the door.

Nikita stared after Gabriel feeling raw and small in her kitchen. A fiery rage began to build within her so hot she could not contain it. She reached for the first thing she saw and threw it across the room. The white coffee mug shattered into an explosion of pieces across the living room floor. Nikita dug her hands into her hair and screamed in anguish. Tremors of tears quaked all over her body, sinking her to the floor. Thoughts of each day that had passed, all the things said, all the secrets revealed, all the lies told, all the passion shared came flooding back to her in a tormenting wave. She grabbed her chest, feeling her heart beating hard, trying to stay alive despite the vicious stabbing of betrayal it endured. Michael's words came back to her with loud clarity.

You shouldn't trust him. He can hurt you.*

She thought he had said it out of his own paranoia. She wanted so terribly to believe that Gabriel was different, that he had a soul that she refused to believe anything else. The truth was, he was not like Michael at all. He was worse. He was a demon with an angel's face. A serpent with the voice of a siren. He was deadly not in his actions, but in the very words he spoke. He didn't need a gun to kill. He could do it with just his smile and the easy way he designed his lies. He was called Gabriel, and it was fitting enough for someone like him being innately musically talented. But, Nikita, felt it was not his true name. He did say in one of his songs that he was the devil. And perhaps he was.

Nikita lay on the floor of her apartment, weeping quietly, holding herself close. Outside, rain began to fall, dotting the window like her tears on the floor. She was a fool to think that she could find freedom in anything other than her own grief ladened wails. It was plain to her now that maybe she had died in prison. Maybe she had truly met her end there behind bars like her profile said and where she was now was some form of perpetual hell she could never escape from. Had her sins been so many to convict her to such a loathsome existence? What had she done to be treated in this way?

Nikita pulled herself up from the floor and slowly began cleaning herself up. She took a long shower, standing in the spray and allowing the water to simply wash over her. There was no purpose to washing any more if all that it meant was that she would be presentable for someone else to take advantage of her. She left her hair wet on her shoulders as she went into the living room to clean up the broken pieces of the coffee mug. The rain continued, icy and angry as it nicked the glass. Nikita opened the window and felt the shards hit her hand and pelt the side of her face.

The phone rang beside her.

Nikita sighed heavily and flipped open the cellular.

"Josephine..."


End file.
